


Call Me, Softly

by hostilovi



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Magic, Demons, Gen, M/M, Magic School, Magic-Users, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-09
Updated: 2016-07-17
Packaged: 2018-04-13 18:28:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 64,175
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4532616
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hostilovi/pseuds/hostilovi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Akaashi was always warned not to go hunting for more power than he already had. But he couldn't help chasing magic any more than he could help breathing. Gifted, they called him. Blessed. </p><p>If they knew his teacher was a demon, he imagined the words they used would be different.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Gold

He didn’t know when it started, only that he didn’t have any idea how to stop.

More frightening, perhaps, Akaashi didn’t want to stop.

He exhaled, watching his breath turn to smoke in the early damp air, and sat up from his reclined position against the balcony railing. All magic users knew there were consequences for having power, having _talents._ And that was without willfully seeking out more, something they were warned against year after year, class after class.

After a while, the warnings blended into one seamless drone, a kind of incantation.

_Don’t go seeking power—or else._

_Don’t ask for more gifts than what you’ve been given—or else._

_Don’t play with magic—or else._

It was troublesome, honestly. If you’ve been given such an incredible gift like magic, what else were you supposed to do but use it?

Akaashi kept that thought to himself though, let it nestle quietly in his chest between bone and sinew and take root. Originally it was a small thing. A small thought. The smallest and most thrilling of rebellions against an organization that preached about the beauty and life of magic, but practiced rigid abstinence from that very beauty. Now?

Now it was commonplace as breathing. It consumed him, wrapped tight around his bones, pulsed in time with his breathing and the beating of his heart.

Akaashi let his eyes slide closed, tipping his head back as he exhaled again—this time with a whisper of a word that burned sweetly up his throat and across his tongue. With his next breath, he could smell him there, felt the sudden displacement of air that heralded his silent arrival. Firesmoke and feathers, frigid mountain air. Blood and pine sap.

“Hey now,” a voice said, light but with an edge of roughness, bright with latent power, “aren’t good little humans supposed to be asleep at this hour?”

“The sun is up.” Barely, but it was. Akaashi kept his eyes shut even as he felt the creature he had summoned move close, closer still. Close enough to feel the heat rising off his skin. His own skin tingled with the vicinity, the almost-but-not-quite touch.

“No one else seems to be. I knew it! I’ve discovered your secret! That prim and proper attitude is just an act—you’re a troublemaker, Akaashi! A delinquent!”

“Not so loud, if you please,” Akaashi sighed, opening his eyes at last to be greeted not with the sight of the mountains and the watered-down light of the sun, but _gold,_ nothing but pure gold eyes and a joyously lopsided grin. “You’re too close, Bokuto.”

The demon’s grin widened, showing too many, too sharp teeth, but he hopped back lightly until there were a few paces between them, landing delicately on his toes on top of the rail. His heavy wings, grey and black feathers, fanned out briefly before falling limp and _sliding_ , transforming into a feathered cloak that hung down his back.

“So picky, Akaashi,” he said with a shake of his head. “And here I thought you called my Name for a reason! Or maybe you just missed seeing my face, huh?”

“I need a favor.”

Bokuto clicked his tongue, raising one eyebrow archly in a show of mock disapproval. “You humans, always so demanding.” The grin returned as fast as it had vanished, and he dropped into a crouch, leaning forward precariously, only able to keep his perch on the rail by clinging with his long-nailed fingers and toes. “So, so? What is it this time, Akaashi? Wanna practice spells with me? Oh, or do you need some ingredients for a potion?”

“Please settle down, Bokuto.”

“Akaashi, _c’mon,_ ” he drew out his name in a long petulant whine. He hopped off the balcony and turned, standing with his arms braced against the railing and his back to Akaashi. For a moment, he let his eyes wander over Bokuto’s broad back, in awe, as always, at how aggressively alive the demon’s presence felt. He burned with life; he burned with magic. “I’m _settled._ I wanna play. Tell me what the game is today.”

Akaashi took the few steps to Bokuto’s side, observing the restless tapping of his nails against the wrought-iron. One instant, sharp and elongated, but very human. The next, black and vicious talons, undeniably inhuman.

He wouldn’t last one instant against those talons. As quickly as he had the thought, Akaashi dismissed it. If he was to die, he would rather it be at the hands of a demon and in pursuit of dreams.

And Bokuto wouldn’t be able to stand still long enough for this explanation.

“Will you walk with me?” he asked politely, and Bokuto perked up at once, the spiky tufts of his hair fluttering in the breeze that whipped around his body like a playful animal.

“You’ve got a story for me?”

The pure delight in his voice, the way he leaned close again to Akaashi—far closer than he let any of his human peers get—with a wide, sharp-toothed smile, made Akaashi’s lips twitch upwards despite his best intentions.

“I do.”

“Yes!” The demon leapt into the air, one fist pumping upwards in victory.

He did not fall. There was only the faintest of shimmering around his feet where the air now supported him. Bokuto leaned down towards him, offering him a hand up.

“I have conditions, demon-kind.”

“Aw, c’mon, Akaashi, we’re friends now, aren’t we? Do we really have to stand on formality?”

It was formality that kept Akaashi alive. It was formality that kept Bokuto from being able to tear out his throat, rip him apart, eat his soul. Friend or not, a demon was a demon. They had both learned that lesson the hard way.

“I have summoned thee, Bokuto Koutaro of the Red Glades, by Name. We are henceforth bound until such time I see fit to dismiss you.”

“Ugh, _Akaashi—”_

“I name my conditions three. I must be back here in one hour. We must not be seen. And the third.” Akaashi finally reached up to touch the proffered hand lightly, fingertips against fingertips. Bokuto closed his fingers in reflexively, the hard keratin of his talons scraping lightly against Akaashi’s skin but never digging in. “Please listen to what I have to say.”

Bokuto let out a soft hiss through his teeth, round golden eyes lidded.

“I always listen to you though.”

“Bokuto—”

“Yes, _yes_ , I know. I know. I, Bokuto Koutaro of the Red Glades, hear and obey. Happy now? Can we go?”

He yanked Akaashi up into the air before he could properly get the words out to the wind, asking it to please support him for the walk he was about to take.

“Bokuto,” he said sharply as the demon extended his magic to support him. The feel of it was something he would never be used to, something heavy and warm. “Stop that.”

“Oh, sorry.” He grinned, a bit sheepish. “Did you want to practice that yourself? I thought, since we just have an hour, you would want me to do the honors for you.”

He didn’t let go until Akaashi murmured out the words; softer than the structured incantations his professors taught, tasting wild and lovely—unlike the first time Bokuto had taught him this trick and let him go tumbling to the ground meters upon meters below. He had laughed uproariously at Akaashi’s terrified scream, but he had caught him well before he hit.

_Just so you remember that it’s dangerous. I don’t want my favorite little human to go practicing this without me around and go splat!_

They didn’t speak for a while, treading lightly across the air until there was some distance between them and the building. The world was clean and sleepy-soft with dew. And cold. Akaashi suspected only the circling of Bokuto’s magic around them, keeping them invisible, was the only thing keeping him even slightly warm.

“You’ve gotten good at this,” Bokuto commented. He walked along with the same ease that he would solid ground, lightly on his toes, sometimes fast, sometimes slow. Akaashi kept himself to a steady pace. Each step was deliberate and took focus. Still, the words rang with the tone of genuine praise.

“I had a good teacher,” he returned, and was rewarded with a dazzling smile.

“That’s me!” he crowed happily. His feathered cape fanned out briefly even though there was no wind, fluffing up like wings for a few moments before falling back down. “Is it time for your story yet, Akaashi?”

He glanced back towards the building he had left. The lofty, spiraling stone towers, the vast green expanse of hills it was nestled in. The reedy lake that fed into the river, which, if you followed it for many kilometers, eventually led to the ocean. Akaashi licked his lips and tasted the ghost of salt.

“Yes. Once upon a time, there was—”

 

 

 

 

 

 

Bokuto returned him to the balcony precisely on the hour. The sun was almost fully up now, painting the sky in luminous colors.

“All that for a book.”

“Bokuto—”

“A _book_ , Akaashi. I can teach you a lot more than any book, you know? Haven’t I already?”

“It’s a very important book, Bokuto,” he said mildly.

“Because some hoity-toity magician wrote about the origins of magic?” Bokuto snorted, crossing his arms. “Please. As if humans know anything about that.”

“Wizard. Not magician. And no species knows anything about the origins of magic, which is what makes that book so important. You understand, don’t you?”

Bokuto furrowed his brows and glanced towards the sun, eyes turning even brighter than usual in the light.

“I’ve been alive longer than you can imagine, Akaashi. Believe me, I understand.”

“A single century is not beyond the scope of my imagination.” Akaashi smiled faintly as the demon huffed out an annoyed breath. “You seemed to enjoy the story well enough.”

“Because you were the one telling it.”

“Then you’ll help me?”

He let out a soft growl before throwing up his hands. “Fine, I’ll help! I’ll find out what I can about your book. But Akaashi?”

“Yes?”

Bokuto’s face was unnervingly serious in that moment and Akaashi couldn’t suppress the shiver that ran through him.

“You’ve only got me for another year. You sure this is how you want to spend it?”

Akaashi swallowed hard and very carefully did not look to the bracelet they each wore. Exactly seven beads tied into crimson thread, all but one turned into foggy translucence. The last was the purest black he had ever laid eyes upon.

One year until their contract was finished. One more year and Bokuto would be free of the bonds that kept him tied to Akaashi.

One more year, and most likely, Akaashi would have his soul eaten by the very same demon who had taught him all the forbidden, dangerous magic he knew how to ask for.

Akaashi smiled.

“Seems as good a way as any, doesn’t it? One last adventure, just the two of us.”

Something delicately soft and fleeting crossed Bokuto’s face.

“It sounds nice,” he muttered, almost accusatory, “when you put it that way.”

It did. So much so that it frightened Akaashi, just a little.

“I release you for today,” was all he said, putting an edge of his power behind it. The feathered cloak sprang out, melting into wings once more. Bokuto’s face leaned unnervingly close for just an instant and those long, taloned fingers ruffled through his hair before vanishing into nothingness with a short burst of laughter.

 

 

 

 

_Demons were bad. Demons were evil, not to be trusted. That was what his auntie always said, to him and all the other children living in the House. Evil. Akaashi’s whole body trembled, staring at the blood, the bodies broken easily as twigs. Their eyes were blank and dead and awful and he wanted, very badly, to throw up, but he was too afraid to move._

_“Hey, hey, hey! Is that the best you’ve got, huh? That wasn’t even a warmup!”_

_The demon cackled, sounding positively delighted that there was no response from the corpses, before he spun on his heels, facing Akaashi with a wild, blood-stained grin._

_“I’m amazing, aren’t I, kid? Don’t worry, these punks won’t ever be bothering you again. And if they do, just call for me! Bokuto Koutaro! King of the Red Glades.” The demon curled his fingers through Akaashi’s hair, impersonally gentle, leaving damp trails of blood behind. “The only price is your soul, little human.”_

_He was gone in less time than it took to blink, leaving behind the scent of firesmoke and a single grey feather. Akaashi cradled it in his hands and tried not to weep._

_Demons were evil, but this one had saved him. He didn’t understand. He didn’t understand a thing._

_He wondered how precious a human soul really was, if it could summon such a monster._

 

 


	2. Amber

“That’s bad luck, you know.”

Akaashi paused, glancing over his shoulder. Oikawa was for once entirely alone, not flanked by any of his companions or admirers. It made him appear more dangerous, more vivid—a dark-eyed, sharp-smiled threat. He was closer than Akaashi had expected.

“Excuse me?”

“Working with fire, on a day like today.” He closed the distance between them, making a show of breathing in deep when he reached him. Akaashi kept his face carefully blank even as his heart jumped in his throat. Bokuto’s scent must have clung to him from earlier that morning. He ignored the very obvious ploy to make him uncomfortable by standing too close and instead peered up at Oikawa mildly, lifting his eyebrows.

“A day like today,” he repeated.

Oikawa continued looming for a handful of seconds before relenting, beginning to walk away. When he spun on his heel to face Akaashi, already a few meters away, his face was more pleasant but not less intense. A pitbull back on his leash.

“Rain’s coming. Didn’t you read the weather?”

“It must have slipped my mind.”

Oikawa hummed, tilting his head to one side. “The ace student of Fukurondani tower, forgetting to do his daily readings. I should report you, you know! Well, make sure you get that smoke off your hands, keep that bad luck away.”

_He knows._

Akaashi tamped the thought down tightly. It was impossible that anyone knew. If they knew, Akaashi would be dead. Stripped of his magic, at the very least, which would be the same as death. It was paranoia that gave rise to that thought.

“I will, thank you.”

“Don’t worry, little owl. It’ll be our secret.”

Oikawa turned and headed down the hall, shoulders thrown back, head high. Not for the first time, Akaashi saw the glint of a crown buried in his windswept brown hair, a battered circlet of cold steel. Some days, like today, it was stained with blood.

Akaashi inhaled purposefully and blinked the vision away on his exhale.

_He knows._

Akaashi walked towards the dining hall, the bracelet unbearably heavy around his wrist. That wasn’t true. Oikawa was just competitive with all the top-ranked students, relentlessly so even with the younger students like him and Kagayama.

_He suspects._

Perhaps. But worrying about it would do no good. Suspicions meant nothing if he didn’t have proof, and Akaashi made very sure no one had any proof.

He glanced to the inner courtyard through the hall windows—nothing more than great spaces in between the stone walls. The sky was paling from gold to blue, not a trace of a cloud in sight. The wind stirred and Akaashi could taste it then—the faintest of tingles of electricity in the atmosphere, the impending humid weight of water.

With a sigh, he changed directions to head to the bathroom.

Oikawa was competitive, not undermining. And even if Akaashi hadn’t been working with fire, he didn’t need yet another reminder of Bokuto to carry with him all day.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

It was hardly possible to sit still and stay awake through the morning’s lecture. Advanced Scrying. He turned the page of his notebook and continued to dutifully scrawl notes from the droning voice of the professor. The textbook sat closed on his desk, the spine still uncracked, the pages barely touched.

He had read it at the start of the year and discovered—like usual—nothing that he hadn’t already taught himself or learned from Bokuto.

In a way, returning to the school this year had been a disappointment after the freedom of his tiny house over the summer, where he could practice without the worry of watchful eyes. But if he didn’t finish school, he didn’t get licensed, and the jobs he could do would be severely limited if he wanted to do professional wizardry. The library here was amazing, too, which wasn’t something he found out until he figured out how to bypass the security for the restricted stacks.

Maybe he was a delinquent deep down, after all.

In the seat next to him, Kenma clear his throat loudly, bringing Akaashi’s attention back to the lecture right before the professor asked him a question.

“It’s a question of consistency versus purity,” he said. “A scrying that takes longer will naturally drain the magic-user’s energy more, so heavier fluids or stronger metals are more suitable. As for longer distances, more pure mediums such as blessed water—”

_“You know, that’d be a whole lot easier if you used blood instead.”_

_“That’s not an option, Bokuto.”_

_“Well, it’s_ true, _” he said, huffily._

_Akaashi sighed and set aside the plate of dragon-forged silver he had been polishing. “True or not, blood magic is high treason among wizards. It’s wrong.” Akaashi hesitated for a moment, considering his petulant scowl. “Tell me about the ocean.”_

_“I’ve told you all the stories I know about that.”_

_“Shall I tell you one of mine then?”_

“—or highly purified metals work best.”

The professor nodded his approval and Akaashi sat back down.

A small origami cat jumped onto his desk. Kenma. He tapped it with his pen and it stopped moving, unfolding to reveal Kenma’s cramped handwriting.

**Be careful.**

When Akaashi glanced over, questioning, Kenma had his head buried in his textbook, taking notes. Akaashi looked at the paper and found more words waiting for him.

**If you fall asleep, I’m not waking you up.**

With a quick look to make sure the professor was preoccupied, Akaashi took a scrap of paper, imbuing it with a breath of life and let it flutter to the other boy’s desk.

**Likewise. No snoring, Kenma.**

The faint smile Kenma flashed grounded Akaashi in the present, enough where he could finish out the lecture without being distracted further.

“Are you going to study group tonight?” he asked as they packed up their bags. Kenma’s head stayed bent and Akaashi noticed there were more of the bone and wooden beads he always wore knotted in his long hair. There were tiny sigils carved into them, though Akaashi had never asked which ones. They were personal items—no one ever asked about the feathers Akaashi hoarded, or the glass bottles Kagayama kept.

“Maybe. Kuroo asked me to help supervise the practice match.”

“I thought Seijou tower had the field?”

He looked up at long last, amber eyes catching the light and turning to gold; Akaashi’s heart jumped for a moment, seeing a different pair of eyes entirely. Then his eyes were sliding past him, head bobbing in a small greeting.

“We made arrangements,” was all Kenma said, slinging his bag over his shoulder, moving past him. “I’ll see you in class.”

Akaashi watched him go, all of his movements quiet, none of them unnecessary. Kuroo, unsurprisingly, was waiting at the door for him with a crooked grin. His uniform was barely hitting the standards for inspection with his sleeves rolled up, most of his buttons undone and his feet missing shoes entirely. He winked when he saw Akaashi watching, throwing an easy arm over Kenma’s shoulders as they left.

Even though he didn’t need it, Akaashi found himself thinking a good-will mantra, sending it chasing after him on his next breath. The occupants of Nekoma tower had always been good to him.

Akaashi left before the professor could ask him if he needed something. _I need out of this school._

Just this year, and one more. He could manage that long. Then he would be free.

_Unless the worst should happen._

The vision of Bokuto’s eyes flashed into his mind again, golden and predatory, his teeth sharp and gleaming as he smiled. The stones of the bracelet were cool against his skin.

Demons were not to be trusted, after all.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

He had meant to pass his lunch break in peace, maybe catch up on some of the sleep he had missed that morning.

Konoha and Sakurui were surrounding him before Akaashi could take more than a few steps from his last class.

“Little ace,” Sakurui said, patting his shoulder familiarly in greeting. He was smiling, cat-like mouth stretching out farther, eyes narrowed to warm slits. “Town meeting. Let’s go.”

“I already told you I wasn’t joining—”

“You joined the team last year, that makes you family.” Konoha propelled Akaashi along by pressing a firm hand to his back, something a little threatening about his smile. “And nobody quits family.”

With a sigh, Akaashi allowed himself to be dragged along. It was useless to argue with any of the Fukurodani seniors. Once they had an idea in their heads, they would not be deterred. And even though being on the duel team was nothing but danger and risk, considering how much illegal power Akaashi held within him, tightly hidden behind seals and sigils, he found his blood singing at the opportunity to be a part of it again.

The team was smaller than the other tower teams, mostly seniors. There had been talk around the tower of a first year joining up, but Akaashi hadn’t paid it any mind since he had determined already to leave behind his position on the team that year.

“To focus on my studies,” he had explained to the manager. Kumiko had rolled her eyes expansively and drawled that she’d be seeing him in practice.

The truth had been that Akaashi wanted to focus on learning as much as possible from Bokuto in their last year together. To hunt down the rumored book, the one that would explain where magic had come from—the one that would grant him even more magic, even more power, should he come to understand what was in the pages.

Either way, he should have known better than to disregard the words of a Seer.

It was easy to join the circle of waiting seniors, easy to smile and apologize, _yes, fine, I’m coming back since you all need me so much_ , easy to join the discussion about the promising first year they wanted to bring on. Onaga, the one with the long face. Akaashi recalled seeing him sneaking sweets from the table, remembered seeing the ghostly image of wings that most of the Fukurodani students carried along in their auras.

“You can’t let our dueling team die out, little ace,” Komi announced, jabbing a finger in his direction. “We’re not going to be around forever. We’re going to go out with style this year, so be prepared to carry on our legacy.”

“I’ve told you before to please just call me Akaashi,” he corrected, squinting up at the storm clouds that were starting to roll in. The bells for classes to start again would be coming soon and he found himself wanting to ditch. Or maybe just wanting to stay in this circle for a while longer. Family. Would they still be his family is they knew the truth about him?

There were those rumors about Washio’s family. Unfounded, most likely, but hard to shake.

Even as he thought it, Washio tossed a pebble at him from across the circle.

“You’re our little ace, little ace.”

“It will set a poor example for Onaga. We’re all equals in the team.”

Most of them laughed at that.

“Equals, yes, but no one quite packs a punch like you do, little ace.”

Komi looked pleased with himself and Akaashi had to blink several times to make the vision of happily fluffed feathers vanish. “So you’ll go talk to him after all?”

_Ah._ Akaashi sighed. “I will,” he reluctantly promised. “But I’m not going to pressure him, so if he says no, that’s the end of it. Promise me.”

“C’mon, who do you think we are?”

“It’s _because_ I know who you are that I’m saying it.”

They laughed again and Akaashi found himself smiling along with them.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

As he had just settled into bed, Bokuto’s voice slipped into his mind.

“Found ya something good, Akaashi!”

Akaashi rubbed at his eyes with a small curse, but got to his feet before calling out his Name. He appeared without ceremony, smelling even stronger of smoke than usually, the sweeter scent of his feathers almost drowned out completely. He was grinning, chest puffed out with pride and stalked forward so quickly that Akaashi nearly flinched backwards.

“Hey, hey, Akaashi!” Bokuto’s wings retracted into their cloak-form, leaving several feathers to flutter loosely to the stones of his bedroom. His whole body seemed to thrum with energy and excitement, and he grabbed Akaashi’s hands between his own. Bokuto’s skin was damp with the rain from outside.

Akaashi let him. The excitement he carried was genuine, not bloodthirsty. “What did you find?”

It was too soon for the book, far too soon, but there was still a seed of hope.

“A map, Akaashi! It leads to treasure, I just know it, I can feel it.” His long nails curled into Akaashi’s skin briefly, not hard enough to break the skin but hard enough to make their presence known.

“What kind of treasure?” Akaashi pulled back his hands carefully regardless.

Bokuto snorted. “Treasure, Akaashi, _treasure._ Wanna see it?”

“Please.”

His grin turned more sly. “First, a favor, then.”

“Bokuto,” he started to say in warning. The demon pouted, tilting his head innocently.

“C’mon, Akaashi, please! I just want to stay here for the night.”

He had asked before. Akaashi had let him, a few times, usually only ever when he wasn’t at school and the danger of being caught was significantly lower.

“Why?” he asked cautiously, folding his arms tight across his chest, suddenly self-conscious of his pajamas. Bokuto shrugged, and snapped his fingers, a tightly rolled scroll appearing in his hands.

“Why not?” he countered.

There was a long list of reasons _why not_. But Akaashi doubted he would sleep much that night anyway, with a map to pore over and Bokuto’s brain to pick for more information. Akaashi held out his hand for the scroll.

“Don’t make a mess of anything,” he said as Bokuto handed it over, almost smiling as the demon crowed happily. “And you have to be gone with the sunrise.”

He saluted sloppily before flopping backwards onto Akaashi’s bed. Akaashi told himself it was nothing to worry about and went to his desk, lighting candles with a muttered word and absent gesture.

“I found it way up in the mountains while I was asking around about that book of yours, Akaashi. It was guarded by Nagas, you know! But I fought ‘em off like nothing Hah!” He made several noises meant to emulate the battle. Akaashi had to suppress a shiver and the old, bloodstained memory of their first meeting.

Just as Akaashi was about to roll the scroll open, Bokuto was _there,_ gripping his wrist tight to stop him, his whole body curled over him.

“Don’t,” he murmured, voice low and serious. He leaned his head further over Akaashi’s shoulder, sniffing the air. Akaashi’s heart was pounding furiously. “I smell a curse. Didn’t notice it before, maybe it doesn’t go off on demons.”

“I don’t feel anything.”

“That’s ‘cause you’re human. Gimme a second.” He let go of Akaashi’s wrist to bite his own thumb, letting a few blood drops sprinkle on the unopened scroll while he hissed out words that made Akaashi’s ears ring and his head ache with the _power._

“You too, Akaashi, I need yours too.”

“Bokuto, you can’t have my blood, it’s part of our agreement—”

“Just to break the curse, I promise.” Bokuto’s eyes were far too close, intent on him and only him. “I, Bokuto Koutaro of the Red Glades, swear to not use your blood to cause you any harm, now and in the days to come.” With that said, his face broke out in a soft smile, bumping their heads gently together. “So don’t worry so much, ‘kay?”

Bokuto’s teeth in the soft pad of his thumb hurt less than he anticipated, but he still inhaled sharply, still felt like he was shaking as Bokuto guided his hand to let the drops of blood fall onto the scroll.

They hit the paper with a hiss, steam rising, and Bokuto was growling out the rest of the words, words Akaashi could not fathom the meaning of and he could feel it then, the poisonous, acid curl of a curse imbedded deep in the paper. It broke with a snap.

Bokuto slumped over him heavily, panting a little for breath.

Akaashi was afraid to move. “Are you okay?”

“It’s just…a little recoil. I’m invincible, you know! It’s safe now.”

“Don’t be an idiot. Go lay down, you’re hurting my shoulders.” He wasn’t, but neither could Akaashi move if Bokuto stayed where he was. Bokuto groaned softly, but with Akaashi’s urging, between the two of them, they got him back onto Akaashi’s bed. The demon curled up with a faint, pleased smile, golden eyes lidding.

“That was pretty cool, right? Want me to show you how?”

“Some other day, maybe.” Akaashi’s head still hurt from the words Bokuto had uttered, and he wondered just how far out of reach that level of power was for him, as a human. The demon made a vague noise in his throat, eyes closing completely.

“Your loss,” he mumbled, already all but lost to the waking world. Akaashi stared down at him for a long moment before very carefully reaching out to pull the edges of his cloak to cover more of him. Bokuto hummed at the touch but only nuzzled his head further into the blankets.

It was his loss, in a way that Bokuto could never know. Akaashi let his gaze linger, selfishly, on the angular planes of his face, the arch of his brows, the wild disarray of his hair.

He became aware of his fingers still holding onto the soft, still-damp feathers and quickly withdrew, turning on his heel to return to the desk. He would let Bokuto sleep it off, and then he would ask him for more information, but for now, he had a map that required his attention.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Akaashi woke with a sore neck and a blanket draped over him, the candles long gone out.

The sun was up. Bokuto was gone, nothing but a scattering of grey feathers to tell that he was ever there at all.

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!


	3. Jonquil

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please check out this [beautiful fan art](http://pan-sowa.tumblr.com/post/129501019900/happy-birthday-bokuto-also-fan-art-for-this-fic) that pan-sowa created!!

“The year’s barely started and you’re already pulling all-nighters?” Washio said in disapproval when he made it down to breakfast, late. “Sleep is important. Don’t push yourself needlessly.”

“I got some sleep,” he felt the urge to say as he took a seat, muttering a quick thanks before digging in. “I was reading and lost track of time.”

“You know he won’t listen to a word you say,” Komi sighed, having long since finished eating and now paging through one of his numerous notebooks. “Don’t be so uptight, Tatsuki. It’s just in his nature.”

Akaashi wasn’t so certain about that, but he felt jittery with energy despite his lack of sleep, and the knowledge that Bokuto’s feathers were shoved in one of his desk drawers, waiting to be tied into charms.

“No more late-night reading,” Washio demanded, ignoring Haruki’s truly magnificent eye-rolling. “Not until exams hit.”

“Why not worry about your _own_ studies first?” Konoha said with a lazy smile. “You’re the one with Old Man Ukai as his advisor. Let the little ace handle his own affairs.”

Washio subsided with a sour glare that warned Akaashi he would be keeping a close eye on him. Beside him, Sarukui nudged him with an elbow, jerking his chin down the table towards a group of rowdy first years.

“Onaga’s the big one.”

“I’m not accosting him at _breakfast._ ”

“Didn’t think you would.” He dug around in his pockets and withdrew a folded piece of paper triumphantly. It was the heavy, unlined paper that their manager favored. “That’s his schedule, more or less. Just talk to him sometime today, yeah?”

Loud cheering erupted across the dining hall from the Seijou tower table, a chant of Iwaizumi’s name rising above the din—probably another of his stunts with the Mad Dog. Akaashi glanced that way as he swallowed his last bite and stood. The cheering nearly drowned out the sound of the last waking bell, but all of the sounds felt distant to him.

Oikawa’s gaze found him, even across the room, bright and biting.

Akaashi pocketed Onaga’s schedule and took his leave. Some fights just weren’t worth the trouble.

 

 

 

 

 

 

There were two kinds of seers. Or more truly, there were Seers—people like Kumiko, who saw prophecies of possible futures and could predict outcomes—and there were people like Akaashi. People who _saw things._

Both were rare talents, but the latter was less understood.

The classroom for the seers was located in the lower dungeons, where it was dark and moderately cool, with no stimuli from the outdoors thanks to the lack of windows and no other classrooms nearby.

It used to make Akaashi uneasy, being underground, but he had learned to cherish the hours he spent here. His Sight was one of the few things Bokuto hadn’t been able to help him learn more about. Not to mention it was refreshing to be with other people with the same gift, the same troubles that arose from it.

“Good morning everyone, good morning,” Shimada bustled through the doors barely on time, kicking them shut behind him as he struggled not to drop any of the papers and books in his arms. “Are we all here?”

“Hinata’s late again, sir—”

“Ah, don’t mind that, he’ll be here in a few minutes.” He set his armful on his desk with a heavy sigh. “I heard him on the staircases. I believe he was having trouble with the local ghosts again.”

As if on a cue, they could all hear someone yelling and two pairs of footsteps coming down the hall. To his right, Kumiko rolled her eyes, leaning her chair dangerously far back on two legs, and Kenma sighed from across the table, not even looking at the door even though most people were watching it with anticipation.

“Sorry we’re late, sir!” Hinata gasped out, red hair in even more of a wild disarray than usual. Just behind him, Aone ducked a swift bow, carefully shutting the previously slammed door behind them.

“No matter, just take your seats, the both of you. Maybe next time don’t get into shouting matches with the ghosts about proper duel techniques.”

Aone’s face remained impassive but Hinata flushed, a scowl crossing his face as he muttered something under his breath before skittering after the larger first year to their seats. He waved to Kenma though, with a bright expression, to which Kenma lifted a few half-hearted fingers in response.

“Now then,” Shimada clapped his hands together lightly, “let’s get right down to it, shall we?”

They all murmured a vague response, turning to face him from their respective places. Kenma dropped the handful of carved bone charms he had been fidgeting with, Kumiko dropped her chair back on all four legs. Akaashi cleared his thoughts of the map and Bokuto.

“Can anyone tell me the problem with seers?” Shimada asked.

“Stigma,” Kumiko answered promptly.

“Lack of focus,” a first year across the room ventured.

“Those are both good answers, but not quite what I was looking for. It’s true there is still a certain amount of stigma on the talent—”

“Thanks, Cassandra,” Kumiko muttered under her breath.

“—and it’s true that a seer who has little control commonly will have trouble focusing on daily tasks. But in the context of _us_ , the real problem with seers is that we’re constantly trying _not_ to See. Short term, not a bad thing, but long-term, this can damage your efficacy.”

“Doesn’t that only apply to proper Seers?” Akaashi asked, fairly certain of the answer Shimada would give already. But the professor smiled faintly at him.

“I was hoping somebody might ask that. No, Akaashi. This applies to seers as a whole, from both sides of the equation. Not to mention,” he folded his arms, frowning out over the room, “regardless what kind of Sight you possess, we are _all_ proper seers. I don’t want anyone carrying around the idea that one type is better than the other.”

A chorus of ‘yes, sir’ echoed around the room. Akaashi leaned back, unsatisfied with such a delicate answer, but nevertheless feeling a knot of tension in his chest tug loose.

“So for the next month, within this class, I want you all to open your minds and invite the visions in. Try not to block anything out unless you start getting overwhelmed. Get in to pairs, relax, and let it all come to you. I’ll call out when it’s time to switch.”

“Professor, what if we can’t see anything?” Hinata asked.

“That’s why we’re taking a month. I don’t expect everyone to get results today or even tomorrow. As long as you’re trying, that’s what matters.”

He split them—the Seers and the ones who saw. As a Seer, he would work with them and leave the ones who _saw_ to their own devices.

_What if they see, what if they can tell?_

If anyone could see, they would have already seen and told. Akaashi gently pressed on the barely-there scratch from last night as Kenma turned his amber gaze on him, staring intently.

_Let it go._

Akaashi pushed it as best as he could from his mind and focused on Kenma.

At first he saw nothing. Just the usual Kenma, the messy half-dyed strands of his long hair, the defensive curl of his thin shoulders. What are you staring for, was what he would usually say. Even as Akaashi started to smile, the visions flickered into being.

A great shadowy figure stood around him, heavy and bristling. Protective. But Akaashi had seen that many times before. Eyes. A large, third eye on his forehead, several others on his arms and hands. All of them stared directly at him, unblinking. Akaashi shivered and tried to find something else, something new.

The shadow vanished briefly, the eyes flickered in and out.

Part of Kenma’s skull vanished and Akaashi flinched, looking away, but not before he saw Kenma’s brain, saw the blood and the electric flash of neurons and synapses.

It only took him a few moments to gather his composure and when he turned back, it was all gone. Kenma was still staring at him like nothing had happened at all.

“You saw inside my head,” he said, not quite a question, very quiet.

“How did you know?”

“I see it a lot. In reflections.”

Akaashi didn’t quite know what to say to that, so he took a few breaths and relaxed, inviting the visions to return, if they would. He, too, often saw visions around himself when he looked in mirrors or other reflective surfaces. Nothing quite so gruesome as Kenma’s.

A bone mask, new and startling, but not wholly unexpected. And tiny flashes of lightning dancing between his fingers. That was all that Akaashi saw before the professor called for them to switch partners after writing down their findings for their own records.

Akaashi didn’t have time to ask Kenma what he had seen.

He wasn’t entirely sure he wanted to know.

 

 

 

 

 

 

After consulting Kumiko’s rendition of Onaga’s schedule—perhaps she had Seen it or perhaps she had just asked around—Akaashi decided to wait for him after his last class of the day. It was on the second level, near the windows that looked out over the courtyard.

Akaashi passed the time waiting by thinking, idly, of whether or not he had interpreted the map correctly. Or if, indeed, he should follow it to the promised treasure.

At the sound of the bell, he stood up, eyes searching the students starting to pour out of the classroom.

“Onaga,” he called out when he spotted the tall first year, putting an edge of power into it so it carried over the noise. He startled at the sound of his name and turned to Akaashi with wide, nervous eyes and an equally nervous smile.

“S-Senpai?” he said after making his way over. “Can I, um, can I help you?”

“I’d like a word with you, if you don’t mind.” Akaashi tried to look as unthreatening as possible, even throwing on a small smile. He glanced towards the staring group of first years waiting for Onaga. “A private word.”

“Have I—”

“You’re not in trouble, I promise.”

Onaga nodded so quickly Akaashi thought his brain must be rattling inside his skull. The thought of brains brought to mind Kenma and his stomach twisted. The first year turned and made a shooing gesture to his friends before turning back.

“What did you want to talk about, senpai?”

“Just Akaashi is fine,” he corrected, starting to walk towards the side stairs where there would be less traffic this time of day. “I’m here to scout you.”

“Scout me?” He blinked a few times before his expression cleared. “For the dueling team, you mean? But I never applied.”

Clearly he didn’t know what scouting actually meant.

“The team and I think you have a lot of potential, Onaga. If you have the time, would you accompany me to a practice match? We can discuss more there.”

“Of course, sen—Akaashi.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

They met on the pitch shortly before the match was to start and headed up into the bleachers together.

“Is it always so violent?” Onaga asked, eyes fixated on the match. There was a tremble in his voice, but Akaashi didn’t think it was fear. It was only a practice match, lacking the intensity of an official duel, but all of the same flair and more talk between the teams. The first dueling match Akaashi had ever seen was also a practice match, he remembered.

He remembered thinking that finally, here was a place where he would really _use_ magic.

“Yes,” Akaashi admitted honestly. “This is actually quite tame for a Nekoma and Karasuno match.”

Onaga’s face was pale but he could barely drag his eyes away from the field.

“They’re so fast,” he said in awe. “I don’t think I could ever be that fast.”

“It takes practice. You’ll learn. I certainly wasn’t that fast starting out—no one is.”

“You really think I can do _that?_ ”

The last words were swallowed up in a giant explosion of wind and lightning and thunder that roared out from the field; the doing of the deadly tag-team of Karasuno’s first years.

“ _That?_ No. those two are a special kind of monster.” Akaashi eyed the flash of disappointment that crossed his face thoughtfully, the hunger in the way his hands clenched in his lap. The way wings flickered into Akaashi’s vision, soft tawny brown, spread wide to catch an updraft that wasn’t there.

“You know what I do think? I think you can find something that you alone can do, something just as amazing.”

Onaga startled, mouth falling open slightly. “You really think so, Akaashi?”

“Of course. Why else would I be scouting you?”

He nodded and turned back to the match. It was difficult to say which side was winning, as well as which side was having the most fun. Judging from the whooping and hollering coming from both teams, it was a draw.

“You don’t have to make up your mind right now,” Akaashi said. “Come to one of our practices, see how we work. If you want to join, fantastic, but no one is going to force you into a decision.”

“It’s intimidating,” Onaga blurted out and then flushed heavily. “Sorry, I didn’t…”

“What’s intimidating? The games?”

“Yes. And—and you’re all the top of your classes, right? That’s not me.”

“We all have different strengths.” He still looked unnerved. “I’ll tell you a secret, Onaga.”

“Yeah?”

“Nobody ever starts at the top. They’ve all managed to find their way there, but we all start from the same place.” Akaashi tapped his feet on the bleachers for demonstration. “We all start from the ground and set our sights on the sky.”

“What if I don’t make it, though?” Onaga gazed at Akaashi despite the whirlwind of activity below on the field, like he had all the answers in the world.

“Then at least you’ll have tried.”

For as barely optimistic an answer that was, Onaga seemed to brighten at the idea.

When Kurooko flagged Akaashi down at the end of the match, Onaga tried to politely excuse himself, but Akaashi insisted he come along.

“Who’s the fledgling?” he asked with a lazy smile, wiping sweat from his face with the front of his already sweaty shirt. “New blood?”

“Potentially. Onaga, this is Kuroo, captain of the Nekoma tower dueling team. Did you need something Kuroo?”

“Just was wondering what Fukurodani’s little ace was doing in the stands when he’s usually holed up in the library.”

“Like you aren’t always there too,” Kenma muttered as he walked up, nodding in greeting to Akaashi. “We’ve got team meeting, Kuroo.”

“Yes, yes, vice-captain, I hear and obey.”

Those particular words were jolting and Akaashi had to fight to keep his face clear. As it was, Kuroo shot him an odd look before lifting his hand in goodbye.

“If you can stick around, Akaashi, I’ve got something I want to discuss. Onaga, good to meet you. I hope to see you in a match sometime soon.”

The overwhelmed first year sputtered out a response as the Nekoma students walked away.

“What do you think?” Akaashi asked him.

“I want to join,” was what he said, dazedly. “Please.”

It was easy to let the smile on his face grow. “That’s what we were all hoping to hear.”

 

 

 

 

Kuroo had wanted nothing but to discuss the schedule of the upcoming practice matches and trading off field times.

“Kenma,” he asked hesitantly at the end of their conversation, leaning up against the wall of the school, bare toes digging into the moist earth. “Did something happen to him today? In your little seer congregation class?”

“Ask him yourself.”

“I did. He wouldn’t say a word to me about it.”

It wasn’t Akaashi’s place to mention anything that had gone on during class, something Kuroo must have gathered from his continued silence and the pointed stare.

“All right. Promise you’ll look out for him in there?”

“We’re not doing anything dangerous by using our sight,” Akaashi felt it necessary to inform him. The third year exhaled slowly, tilting his head back and squinting at the luridly bright sunset that was splashed all across the sky.

“That’s a lie if I ever heard one, Akaashi. There’s nothing more dangerous than a talent that messes with your own brain and your senses.”

Maybe it was true, maybe it wasn’t.

The age-old stereotype of seers going mad didn’t exist without reason, though.

“We all look after each other,” Akaashi assured him quietly. That seemed to reassure him well enough; Kuroo clapped a friendly hand to his shoulder and trotted off into the school, headed towards his tower and, no doubt, Kenma.

Akaashi closed his eyes for a few moments, relishing the feel of the last rays of light on his skin.

Akaashi spent the rest of the night poring over the map again, this time alongside a book of runes that he’d managed to sneak out of the restricted section at the library during his first year and never bothered returning. No one seemed to miss it, and Akaashi doubted anyone else was quite so interested in _demonic_ runes as he was.

Once he could plod through the cryptic messages, by virtue of both his own knowledge of runes as well as not infrequent consultation with the book, the answer of _what kind of treasure_ seemed very clear.

A watch glass.

A relic of a sorceress, dark and powerful. The map referred to her as the ‘all-seeing’.

If she truly was all-seeing, the watch glass would hold the residue of her power, no matter how long dead, and if that was true, then Akaashi could use it help in his hunt for the book.

 

 

 

 

 

Akaashi rose exceptionally early the next morning despite his late night, full of energy for the day. Today, after all, was the day he finally got his assigned space for his year-long independent study.

He had to force himself to slow down enough to make it through his entire morning routine, including scribbling out a note and sending it flying off to Komi to let him know that the meeting with Onaga had been a success. Rather than sitting down for breakfast, he grabbed a few slices of bread and ate on the way to his room.

It wasn’t difficult to follow the directions his advisor had given him, but the climb—up and up and up—took much longer than he thought it might. The muscles in his thighs were warm and tingling with the exercise by the time he made it to the door.

Holding his breath, Akaashi unlocked it with the key he had been given—the door was enchanted so that only he, his professor, and those he invited in could enter, and the key had been part of that spell.

It was beautiful.

Windows dominated an entire wall of the room, making the small space look significantly larger and filling it with light. It was outfitted with a standard long desk and chair, and a much less standard rack for ingredients and books.

At the soft tap on the open door, Akaashi turned to see his mentoring professor with a faint smile on his face.

“What do you think of the place? I can always get you moved, but it seemed like it would suit you. It’s high up,” he shot Akaashi a wry glance as he stepped inside the room, squinting out the windows, “and it has the most light. Not as spacious as some.”

“It’s perfect, sir,” he assured him, and the professor snorted.

“Perfection is a social construct. But it’s a good spot. Good energy.” His body language shifted subtly and Akaashi focused on the worn collar of his shirt to avoid the vision of armor that kept flitting in and out of sight. He was one of the few professors Akaashi ever saw anything around. Whether or not that had anything to do with the eccentric teaching methods he employed that the others frowned upon, Akaashi couldn’t be certain. But he suspected it was a contributing factor. The field of latent power he generated was larger and more wild.

“You know, Akaashi, I hate to even ask this, but I worry.”

“Worry, sir?” Akaashi asked calmly.

“You’re driven, talented. Intuitive. Almost too much so.”

_He knows, he knows, he—_

“You’ve got time, is what I’m trying to say. There’s no rush, so you should enjoy your time here, as a student.”

Akaashi let out a slow breath.

“I am enjoying myself, sir. I enjoy challenges.”

His professor let out a laugh. “You were described to me as ‘preternaturally curious’ when your name came up in the pool for independent study. I’m not sure they were wrong, but curiosity is good. Ah, don’t mention I said that to the other professors.”

“Of course, sir.” Akaashi looked at his watery reflection in the window. “It will be our secret.”

 

 

 

 

 

Akaashi touched the curling edges of the map, traced the threads of ink that looked wet and alive but were perfectly dry beneath his fingertips.

Bokuto’s name was on his lips before he could regret the foolhardy desire to follow the map to the treasure it promised.

“Isn’t it past your bedtime?” Bokuto asked with a toothy grin.

“Hardly.” The demon showed no sign of pain or exhaustion from his encounter with the curse from the map. Akaashi envied his hardy constitution. _The only price is your soul._ “We’re going on a little trip.”

Bokuto’s head tilted, the motion attentively predatory, golden eyes bright and lidded. Knowing. “You figured the map out already?”

“More or less.”

He grinned and nodded.

“Where to?”

“The ocean.” Akaashi inhaled and let his breath out slowly, anticipation all in a knot in his chest, stopping just short of making his hands shake. “Home.”

 

 

 

" _What's this now?" The demon tilted his head, staring down at Akaashi, who was feeling drained from the effort of not shaking, of having just summoned a demon on his own power. A demon he could tell, especially now, was well-beyond his power to summon. The feather clutched in his hand should have been crushed long ago from how tightly he held on, but it was still as soft as ever._

_"You're just a little thing, aren't you?" the demon said with a frown, looking him up and down. "You've got no business summoning me. Well, poor luck for you--"_

_Akaashi shoved the feather towards him. A protective talisman. Proof that Akaashi had met him before and survived, even if it had been by Bokuto's whim._

_"I bind thee, Bokuto Koutarou of the Red Glades--"_

_"You_ can't _be serious kid."_

_"I bind thee, thrice, thrice again, and once more." More energy leached out of him into the magic circle that Bokuto stood upon, his arms folded, looking deeply unimpressed. "I bind thee by my blood, my breath, and..."_

_He couldn't remember the last words._

_"Oh_ come on. _" Bokuto stepped off the circle and pulled the feather from Akaashi's now limp grasp. "You don't even know the incantation? Who's teaching you, huh? Blood, breath, and bone, kid. Blood, breath, and bone. It's the holy trifecta. Or unholy, I suppose, depending on how you use it."_

_He looked thoughtfully at the feather before tossing it over his shoulder. "Well, sorry about this, but I don't have time to waste on little humans. Hope you said goodbye to your family and all that, because you won't be seeing them again--"_

_"...and my bone," Akaashi croaked out, just as the demon leveled his taloned hand with his throat. He couldn't tell if the salt he was tasting was his tears or sweat or just the salt in the air from the nearby sea._

_He felt something snap into place. A connection that gave an unpleasant tug on his rapidly beating heart before settling._

_"I'll be damned." The demon caught him before Akaashi could completely collapse. All Akaashi could see was his eyes, big gold eyes and seemed to see deep inside of his soul. "You've got guts, little human, I'll give you that."_

_It worked. It had worked._

_"What's a kid like you want with a demon, anyway?" Bokuto asked, voice strangely soft._

_"Magic." Akaashi licked his dry lips. "I want to learn magic."_

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! The reference to Cassandra is [this](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cassandra) Cassandra, a seer from Greek mythology.


	4. Citrine

 

 

Akaashi couldn’t appreciate the smell of the sea, nor the sand beneath his feet. He was too focused on not vomiting from the way his head spun. Spots flashed in front of his eyes and he could feel bile burning the back of his throat.

“When you said you could fly us there,” Akaashi paused to gulp in another deep breath, trying to calm his nausea by sheer force of will, “I thought you meant _flying_. With your _wings_ , Bokuto.”

He gave Akaashi an odd look. “That would have taken hours, why would I go by wing when I can fly instead?”

“That—that was not flying.”

  _“Where to?”_

_“The ocean. Home.”_

_“Then let’s go!” Bokuto danced in place, impatiently holding out his hands. “Let’s go, let’s go!”_

_“Just a moment.” Akaashi rolled the map securely, ignoring the scorch marks from the broke curse, and started gathering a bag. He wasn’t sure what would be waiting for them. Plus, he had thought Bokuto might need more convincing._

_I should have known better than that._

_Demon though he was, Bokuto never once shyed from work or much of antying that Akaashi asked of him. It was almost like having a friend._

_“I’ll need you to fly us there. I only have until midday tomorrow.”_

_“I can’t get us there in a flash, no problem.”_

Bokuto shrugged, unconcerned, though he did pat Akaashi’s back gently. “It’s just a word, Akaashi. There are lots of ways to fly! This one was just faster than the others, that’s all.”

Akaashi closed his eyes for a moment, before straightening up from his hunched over position slowly. “Warn me, next time,” he said wearily, adjusting the straps of his bag.

They weren’t near the small town Akaashi had been raised in, but it was the ocean that was home for him, not the town. The smell of salt and fish scales, the cool breeze, the perpetual crash of the waves on the sand and rocks; it was more home than the four walls of the orphanage had ever been.

He looked between the featureless shore and the map a few times. Bokuto, hopping in and out of the surf, was a distraction that threatened to make him laugh at the small shrieks he gave when the frigid autumn water hit his bare feet.

Akaashi started walking, knowing that Bokuto would follow.

“I don’t see any caves,” he said, after peering over Akaashi’s shoulder at the map. “Sure this is the right place?”

 “It’s a bit of a walk from here. I suspect the cave is under a protective illusion, or,” he rolled the map back up, slapping it against Bokuto’s chest when he made a noise of complaint, “underwater.”

 “Akaashi,” he sounded disgusted, unrolling the map again and looking for himself, “I’m a demon, not a fish.”

 “If I needed a fish, I would have brought a fish. What I need is you.”

Bokuto mumbled something rude under his breath but preened at the compliment, springing a few more steps forward.

“Any idea what’s waiting for us?”

 “You’re the demon. You would know better than I.”

He said something Akaashi didn’t catch, voice stolen by the same wind that ruffled the dark grey and black feathers of his cloak. He glanced back with a ready smile and Akaashi’s eyes fell to the bare skin of his muscled arms. With the constant bulk of the cloak, it was easy to forget the comparably trim lines of his body beneath. He looked towards the ocean instead. It was safer.

It wasn’t like Bokuto was the only person he had felt this kind of attraction to. He could recall his embarrassing first-year crushes on Kumiko, and later, Washio. But it was the first time it felt so intense. So captivating.

That was probably just the draw of a demon. Or his power. Akaashi looked back forward once the inconvenient feeling passed.

The sky was still dark when they could feel the signs of an old magic leeching out into the ground. Akaashi stopped short, closing his eyes for a moment to focus. He reached into his pocket, holding onto one of his feather charms he kept there, and whispered the words of a tracking spell that felt like the wind tugging the breath from his lungs.

When he opened his eyes, he could see a dark trail that led to the water.

Bokuto, to his right, looked unimpressed.

 “That’s playing dirty, keeping an underwater hideaway. Magic never works right with water unless you’re a water witch.”

 “That’s playing smart,” Akaashi corrected, earning himself a sigh and a withering glance.

“I am _not_ swimming.”

With any luck neither of them would have to.

“How exactly do you suggest we get there then, Akaashi? Unless you have a way of moving all of this water,” he gestured, open-armed, to the sea, “then this isn’t happening.”

_Older really doesn’t mean wiser._

 “That’s exactly what I’m going to do.”

Bokuto blinked, owlish. “Move the water? That’s impossible, isn’t it? You’re a seer, you’ve got no tale for water working.”

 “I have something better than talent.” Akaashi shrugged off his bag to rummage through it. A seashell necklace, simple, plain. He looped it around his left hand, one, two three, then bent down to grasp a handful of sand and rocks. “Bokuto, release the first seal.”

Bokuto hissed, taking a step back.

 “Akaashi, _that’s_ playing with fire,” he said, perfectly serious. “You can’t.”

 “Just do it, Bokuto. Please. I need what’s in that cave.”

He shook his head, but he moved forward, close enough to touch—close enough to kill, though he couldn’t yet. “We can find this book without it. If you give me more time—”

 “I don’t have time to give.”

Bokuto frowned, touching Akaashi’s bracelet with one talon, before leveling his palm with the center of Akaashi’s chest. It was the same hand that had his bracelet tied on. Just one black stone, just one more year. _Focus, Akaashi Keiji. Focus_.

 “If you’re certain then, little human.”

 “I am.”

Bokuto spoke, the words snapping off his tongue like thrown daggers, hissing through the air. The force of it slammed into Akaashi’s chest hard enough to leave him wheezing for breath. He clutched tighter to the sand that kept trickling between his fingers as he felt the weight of one of the seals on his magic spring open, flooding through him in a burning rush.

 “First seal,” Bokuto ground out, “released.”

The instant Akaashi could get his breath he began the incantation. It was an old one, the words somehow full of nostalgia even though he had never attempted this before. There was no room for doubts, it was only the ancient spell and the unrelenting sea.

The words poured from him, heavy as the sand he stood upon, flowing as the water that stretched out endlessly before them. and when the words finally ran dry, Akaashi could barely keep his feet. Bokuto curled a supporting arm around his waist without question.

 “I told you,” he said, gently chiding. “I told you it would do no good to—”

Bokuto stopped at the sight of Akaashi’s exhausted smile. He turned back to the ocean, golden eyes wide.

“I’ll be damned,” he murmured.

 “When I was little, I nearly died in the ocean. My blood got in the water.”

Bokuto hissed softly between his teeth, regarding the water that now rose up into great walls, a path formed whether they could walk. In the distance, Akaashi could see the dark entrance to the cave the map had promised.

 “I thought blood magic was treason for you wizards.”

 “It’s not blood magic. It’s a ritual.”

 “That’s a mighty fine line you’re walking, Akaashi.” His eyes narrowed. “I guess we don’t have long though.”

“Maybe half an hour.”

 “And you’re already in bad shape.”

It had taken more power than Akaashi had figured, but there was no way he was going to stop now, when it was so close. Akaashi could feel the magic draining from him even as he stood there.

 “Release the second seal.”

 “That’s a bad idea. You know how bad it hurt to put them on the first time? It doesn’t get any better the second time around.” There was real concern in his voice but there wasn’t time to consider that.

 “Just do it please, before we lose our chance. You can lecture me all you want later.”

If the first seal felt like a punch, the second felt like a boulder had landed on him, and then the subsequent release of power, a molten rush in his veins.

Sealing magic was a dangerous business. It had taken months for Akaashi to convince Bokuto to do it in the first place. Right now, this was more important. He ignored Bokuto’s worried expression and began walking forward, unnerved by the sheer amount of water he had commanded to move aside; without the sunlight, it was nearly black except for the brief silvery flashes of the creatures within.

The closer to the cave they walked, the more dark and oppressive both the water as well as the atmosphere became. It was shielded somehow. Akaashi lifted his hands, pressing lightly against the invisible barrier.

 A small gesture and muttered word called up his witchlights—a group of seven round white lights that danced until the air. Even with them, it was dark, and impossible to see into the cave. Before he could ask, Bokuto snapped his fingers, his own witchlights joining Akaashi’s—yellow instead of white, and larger.

“Thank you,” he said distractedly, trying to feel for any kind of weakness in the barrier, some crack he could press upon. But it was perfectly smooth, perfectly strong. It would take brute force to take this down.

“I bet I can do this one! I’m no good with water, but barriers are a breeze.” Bokuto reached out a hand, only to withdraw with a pained yelp.

“Careful,” Akaashi said. “There’s a strong anti-demon spell.”

“You could have warned me before.”

“I didn’t think you would touch it. You might want to stand back.”

Bokuto sighed but obediently got behind Akaashi.

Gathering his will and his magic, Akaashi imagined it forming into a huge spear, something capable of piercing through and granting them access to what lay beyond the barrier. He kept letting it build up until his hands shook and his head ached with the pressure.

Break, he willed, letting it go.

The resulting whiplash sent him stumbling back against Bokuto, who caught him easily, steadying him on his feet. The water walls rippled dangerously as the released energy whipped past but calmed readily at Akaashi’s hoarsely whispered command.

“Now that,” he said, almost reverent,” was some magic.”

Akaashi murmured his agreement, head spinning from the energy drain that always followed a big working

“Let’s go.” Bokuto squeezed his shoulders briefly before letting go and moving first into the still dark entrance. Akaashi took a few deep breaths and followed after him, sending his witchlights first.

He was nearly blinded by the amount of light that burst into life. Akaashi lifted a hand to shield his eyes until he could adjust to the stark difference from outside.

Bokuto seemed just as in awe of the revealed cave as Akaashi was.

It was an effort not to lean against the walls, but he doubted anything good would  come from touching the crystals that were growing all over—pale, shining like mirrors and refracting the witchlights they had both called; endless reflections of white and yellow, making it impossible to judge just how large the cave really was.

“No wonder they called her all-seeing.”

Bokuto snorted. “More like, no wonder she went off the deep-end. Can you imagine, being a Seer constantly surrounded by all this? What a nightmare.”

 “Mad or not, she was clever to hide it here. One watchglass, among all of this?” Akaashi carefully took a step, nearly losing his balance when the floor was lower and more slippery than expected. “If it’s here, I’m not sure we’ll find it—Bokuto?”

He was frozen unnaturally still, shoulders raised and cloak fluffed out like he might take flight. His wild hair stood nearly on end, crackling with bottled energy as Bokuto stared intently into the cave.

 “Is there something there?” Akaaski asked softly as he could, doing his best not to move. He couldn’t feel or see anything himself.

 “I think,” he said, quiet and even, “that sorceress is still here.”

“She died, ages ago.”

 “She’s a dark sorceress. They dabble in stuff that would turn your stomach. There are ways of tying your spirit to a place or an object.” He pointed straight ahead. “She’s there.”

 “In the walls?”

 “In that glass you want.”

He had come too far to be stopped by this now.

“I’m not leaving without it.”

 “I don’t think we have a choice. She’s a whole different weight class from you and me.”

 “But if she’s in the glass—”

“She’ll take you over the moment you try to use it.”

_Don’t listen to him_ ¸ a voice whispered in his ear. _Take it_.

“I don’t have to use it,” he mused. “I could study it.”

 “Akaashi, no. even just being around something so dark will stain you—”

 “Like being around you hasn’t?”

Bokuto fell into a hurt silence, gold eyes flashing from all sides. “Do what you want then,” he said. “But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

Akaashi was already moving forward towards where Bokuto had pointed, searching with his eyes and with the remains of his magic for what Bokuto had felt.

_Here_ , the voice whispered. _I’m here._

He turned more towards to the left, where the voice had sounded.

_That’s right. I’m here._

Barely discernable from the crystals, the watchglass rested on the ground, big enough to be held in two hands. Akaashi knelt, reaching out but not quite touching. He could feel the negative energy emanating from it now and the voice purred in his head to take it, take it, touch it.

“Akaashi,” Bokuto said, nervous. “We should go.”

“In a minute.”

Would a cleansing spell be enough? Or perhaps if there was no direct contact with his skin, nothing would happen.

“Akaashi, the water—”

He quickly yanked off his sweater, scooping up the watchglass in it and moving back towards Bokuto who stood waiting at the cave entrance. The water was shuddering dangerously, starting to splash back onto the path despite Akaashi’s commands.

“Quickly, quickly!” Bokuto grabbed his arm and started dragging him along as he ran down the bath, their witchlights zooming ahead of them like shooting stars. He could barely breathe but he forced himself to keep plowing ahead with Bokuto, slogging through the water as more crashed down around them.

They didn’t quite manage to make it out of the full blast of the sea crashing back down, but they were close enough to the shore that they didn’t get sucked out into the waves or beneath them. Akaashi collapsed on the sand, chest heaving, hugging the sopping sweater to his chest. Bokuto still hadn’t let go and was spewing out curses in between his gasps for air.

The sky was just starting to lighten with the oncoming threat of sunrise. Akaashi would have to figure out what to do with the watchglass before returning to school.

“I hate the ocean,” Bokuto exclaimed, grip on Akaashi’s wrist finally loosening and sliding away.

“It can hear you, you know.”

“It was meant to be heard!” He sat up, shaking a fist at the incoming surf. “You hear that, you bastard? I’m never coming back again!”

Akaashi snorted with laughter, buzzing with adrenaline and exhaustion. Bokuto blinked at him in surprise before laughing too. He got to his feet with a small groan, extending a hand to Akaashi. After securing the sweater wrapped glass in his other hand, Akaahi allowed himself to be pulled to his feet.

“Where to, Akaashi? I don’t think you’ll want to be caught at school with that thing leaking dark energy everywhere."

“I was thinking a cleansing might do the trick.”

“You don’t have the power for that right now.”

He was right; after the stunt with the water and breaking the cave barrier, he was running close to empty on energy, even with two seals released.

“You’ll have to help.”

“Hello, demon?” Bokuto gestured to himself with a self-deprecating smile. “I’m good at a lot of things, but cleansing isn’t at the top of the list. Unless you want to just borrow energy?”

“That will work. It should work,” he amended, looking down at the sweater. “We should go somewhere more private first.”

“I know just the place!”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

‘Flying’ the fast way was just as disorienting the second time as it was the first, but at least Akaashi was too tired for the nausea to really set in. Bokuto landed them in a grove in a forest, one Akaashi vaguely recognized as being close to the school.

Once he felt steady enough, Akaashi carefully opened up the sweater and looked at the watchglass. It was plain, nothing but perfectly smooth glass and a thin rim of gold plating. The dark energy emanating from it felt weaker in the sunlight.

_Let me go_ , the voice whispered faintly, making Akaashi jump. He had assumed the voice wouldn’t linger once the watchglass was removed from the cave—old spells were usually weaker when moved from their point of origin.

_Yes, I’m talking to you. Get me out of here!_

“Bokuto,” Akaashi said in a hush. “Can you hear that?”

“Hear what?”

“There’s a voice—”

“Oh?” He moved forward and tapped the glass carefully with one talon.

_Cut that out and get me out of here!_

“Oh,” he repeated, more interested. “There really is a spirit trapped in there.”

“I thought we already established that the sorceress tied herself to it.”

“Well, yeah.” He wrinkled up his nose and shook himself, sending water droplets flying everywhere. With a mumbled incantation, Bokuto was dry again, hair sticking up even more than usual thanks to the salt from the sea. He gestured absently towards Akaashi and he, too, was enveloped in a wave of warmth that sucked the moisture away. “But after so long, she wouldn’t be so coherent. I don’t think so, anyway. She’d be…more like a really strong curse.”

“I see,” Akaashi murmured. He didn’t. He would have to ask Bokuto more questions later. For now, the matter of the watchglass and whomever was caught within was paramount. “I’ll be needing to borrow your energy then, Bokuto.”

“If you don’t have a container to transfer the spirit too, she’s gonna burn up in the sun.”

Akaashi pointed up to the flock of birds resting in the trees above them.

“Clever, but she’ll fly off unless—here, let me.” Bokuto crouched down next to him and began drawing a circle around the watchglass, murmuring soft words that slid over Akaashi’s skin like silk before settling into the ground, invisible. “There! All set.”

Bokuto held out his hand and Akaashi took it, interlacing their fingers to help encourage the flow of magic between them.

He had only borrowed energy from Bokuto once before. The difference between demon and human was sometimes unnoticeable, but Bokuto’s magic was vastly different in every possible way. Akaashi had also once borrowed from Komi—the connection had been immediate, easy to maintain. It had felt comforting, giving a sense of peace.

The connection with Bokuto snapped into place at once and the outpouring of energy form him to Akaashi was almost too much, almost too fast. If borrowing a human’s energy was peaceful, borrowing a demon’s was pure bliss. It was better than any adrenaline high Akaashi had ever experience—almost better than working magic himself.

“That’s too much, Bokuto,” he managed to grate out, hating it when the energy flowing into him slowed to a more manageable crawl.

Akaashi held his hand above the watchglass, saying the words of the cleansing spell, being careful to pronounce each syllable precisely. Cleansing spells could go terribly wrong with a single misplaced word. The longer it went on, the more visible the trapped spirit became, hovering above the watchlass in a cloud of pale smoke. When Akaashi closed his mouth on the last word, the smoke vanished and one of the birds half-fell, half-flew to the ground

 A crow.

“What is your name?” Akaashi asked the bird.

“Tanaka Saeko,” she said, a bit sour, fluffing her new feathers up. “At your service.”

Tanaka? There was  Tanaka in the Karasuno tower—big, loud, an intrepid duelist. It was unlikely there was a relation, but it wasn’t impossible either.

“Tanaka Saeko. Are you the sorceress they called the all-seeing?”

The crow form cawed, but Akaashi could hear the laughter in his mind as clear as he heard her voice.

“As if! I’m a treasure hunter, like you. Sprang one of the old bat’s traps and got stuck in that hole. I would thank you, but my gratitude’s run a bit dry seeing as you’ve bound me like your pet demon.”

Bokuto pulled a face at the bird, crossing his arms, but did not dispute it.

“But we could feel the sorceress’ presence in you.”

“Yeah, well, I’d like you to stay in there for a century and come away clean, kid.” She cocked her head, peering at him with one black eye. “Maybe I carry the remnants of that hag, but I’m all me.”

Akaashi glanced to Bokuto who merely shrugged.

“Don’t suppose you’re going to let me loose now?”

 “I’m afraid not, Tanaka.”

She heaved a sigh. “Saeko. Just Saeko will do, kid.”

“Akaashi,” he corrected. “If you don’t mind me asking, Saeko, what did you want the watchglass for?”

“Same thing as you, right? I was looking for something and needed help. Came across the map and the rest is history. Literally.”

It wasn’t a full answer but Akaashi didn’t much feel like pushing her, given that he had stuck her in a crow’s body and bound her to him. He would have to pretend she was his familiar until he could figure out something else. Familiars were an old tradition, not followed by most, but not unheard of. He could pass it off as part of his independent study.

Akaashi touched the watchglass, relieved when he felt nothing but cool glass beneath his fingertips. No residue remained.

 “We have to return to the school,” he decided. Ability to transport at will or not, midday would be pushing it. The earlier he got back, the better, and the less he might have to explain his whereabouts. He stood, unbuttoning his shirt as he went. “Bokuto, if you could redo the seals, please.”

“Both of them?” he asked neutrally.

“If you can manage.”

“I’m not the one who should be worrying about managing,” Bokuto muttered as Akaashi removed his shirt, leaving his back bare to him. He knew the three other seals were invisible, but he could feel the whorls of them pulse faintly as Bokuto’s hand hovered over the space between his shoulder blades.

 “I’m sorry,” Bokuto whispered in the breath before his talons dug into his skin and the muscles beneath.

The pain was unthinkable. Akaashi could barely hear himself scream before the world was lost to him.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

He awoke, warm and aching, to the familiar sound of Bokuto’s laughter.

Akaashi kept his eyes shut, orienting himself. The pain from the new seals were settling, not so overwhelming. He felt heavy. He could smell Bokuto all around him, feathers and firesmoke and everything so him.

His cloak. Akaashi shifted, pulling it closer around him. Despite its weight, the cloak moved fluidly with his body, like it was a part of him.

“Hey, you’re awake!”

“Yes,” he rasped out. He opened his eyes at last and found himself looking up at the ceiling of his room and Bokuto’s golden eyes above him. Bokuto grinned and leaned back as Akaashi sat up, blinking at the sight of both Bokuto sitting cross-legged on his bed as well as Saeko perched on the footboard. “Bokuto, what are you doing here?”

The smile remained. “You never dismissed me. And besides, I wanted to make sure you were okay!”

A knock came at the door.

“Hide,” Akaashi hissed, throwing aside the cloak and scrambling to his feet, wincing as his back muscles protested the sudden movement. He scrubbed a hand through his hair as he approached the door, knowing trying to fix anything else about his appearance was futile at this point. The knocking came again. Akaashi glanced back to find Saeko gazing at him with the epitome of avian amusement. Other than the cloak left on the bed, there was no sign of Bokuto.

Akaashi gritted his teeth and opened the door.

“Jeez, Akaashi, how long did you intend to sleep when we’ve got practice—whoa, are you all right?”

“Fine,” he said mildly. “I’m fine.”

“You look like you got thrown off a cliff into the ocean.” Komi leaned forward and wrinkled his nose. “ _Smell_ like it too. What the hell did you do last night?”

“Is he awake yet?” Washio asked, poking his head around the door and then doing a double-take.

“Awake, yes. Alive, debatable.”

Akaashi shifted uncomfortably under their intense scrutiny. “I’m really fine. I was just…working on some things for my independent study.”

Behind him Saeko cawed. _I’m not your school project!_

“Akaashi,” Komi said, tone dangerously light. “Why is there a _crow_ in your room?”

“I got a familiar,” Akaashi tried, but the words rang false even to him.

Washio snorted, taking a few steps back. “You know what, fine. If you don’t want to tell the truth just say so, but don’t lie to my face. Come to practice, don’t come to practice. I don’t care anymore. C’mon, Komi, let’s go.”

“I’ll catch up in a minute.”

Washio stormed off, aura crackling. Akaashi saw a flash of tawny wings, a crown of flames wreathing his head.

“You shouldn’t have lied to him again,” Komi stated evenly. “He doesn’t like it.”

“I know.”

“I don’t like it either.”

“I know.”

“Take the day off, sort…whatever’s happening here out. I expect to see you tomorrow.” Komi glanced around him at Saeko. “Is that really your familiar?”

“She…I found her. She’s lost her family.”

Komi sighed, shaking his head. “Whatever it is, she doesn’t suit you. Best you find her a new family. Tomorrow, Akaashi. Don’t forget.”

“I’ll be there. I promise.”

The door closed, Akaashi pressed his forehead against it, trying not to let the sting in his eyes became real tears. He hated making them mad, but more than that he hated to be a disappointment to them.

“Hey now, don’t cry, Akashi.” Bokuto touched his shoulder, gentle. “It’s not like they found out about me or what you’re doing, right?”

Right. For as much perspective as that brought, it didn’t make him feel any better. He needed to shower. He needed to sleep. He needed…something. He wasn’t sure what, but it was a sense that was burrowed deep inside him.

“You can go now,” Akaashi said quietly, not moving.

“I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”

“And I’m sure I didn’t ask your opinion.”

Bokuto moved closer rather than away.

“Look at me.”

“Hey, just look, okay?”

Akaashi relented, turning his head. Bokuto was smiling, soft and bright. “We did something amazing, you know? We’re going to find that book, I can feel it.” He gave Akaashi’s shoulder a friendly slap and was gone in the next breath.

“Is he always like that?” Saeko asked incredulously.

“Yes.” Akaashi stared out the window as if he might actually catch a glimpse of him even though he had already vanished. _Ah._ Bokuto had left his cloak behind. Could he fly without it? Could his wings manifest? He would have to ask

Akaashi picked it up carefully, smoothing some of the mussed feathers before hanging it in his small wardrobe, right next to his uniforms.

It looked like it belonged there.

“You’re a fool, Akaashi Keiji,” he said softly to himself.

“That’s for damn sure,” Saeko laughed.

There was no arguing that.

“I have a question, Saeko, that might sound a little strange. There’s a Tanaka Ryuunosuke who goes to this school. Is it possible that he might be a relation of—”

“How do you know Ryuu?” she asked urgently, flapping over and landing on his shoulder, peering at him with her unnerving black crow eyes. “How do you know my little brother?”

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More additions to the plot~ Thanks for reading!


	5. Canary

“Your little brother,” Akaashi repeated uncertainly.

“Obviously,” she replied an impatient snap of her beak. “Where is he? I need to see him—”

Akaashi couldn’t let that happen. Nor did he want to be the one to break the news he had to say next.

“Saeko,” he said, gently as he could, “you were trapped there for a century. Maybe he’s from the same clan and carries your brother’s name, but he isn’t—”

“You don’t understand. That’s my brother.”

“Saeko, please just listen—”

“I time traveled.”

He fell silent, quickly thinking over his initial assessment of her. Time travel was perhaps one of the most difficult powers to master, and heavily frowned upon. Not quite illegal, but close enough.

“Accidentally,” she added.

“I see.”

How did one complete one of the most complex spells known to humankind on accident?

“It took me back in time, one century. And I was trapped for just about that same length, which means I’m back in my timeline! That’s my brother!” She snapped her beak at him again, too close for comfort. “You have to take me to him, right away.”

He couldn’t, not if he was going to keep his secrets safe. If she said anything about what they had been doing that night, he’d be run out of the school. Worse, probably, especially if someone looked close and saw the binding spell keeping Saeko tied to him.

Not to mention the demon.

“I can’t do that.”

“What’re you talking about? You have to! He’s my brother! Haven’t you been listening?”

“If you say a single word about what I was doing, I’ll be out of this school and stripped of my rights to magic working faster than you can blink, Saeko.”

“So I won’t say a word about it, duh.”

“That’s not good enough.” He hesitated, leaning his face as far away from her as he could manage with her still on his shoulder. “I’m sorry. I’ll find a way, but until then you can’t see him.”

She flew to the bedpost, cursing him with the most colorful language he had ever heard.

“So what, you’re going to keep me trapped in here like an animal?”

Akaashi chewed on his lower lip, wishing that this could somehow be easier. All he had wanted was the watch glass and now he was landed with the care of a lost spirit. It wasn’t like he knew any necromancers who could return her to her original body—assuming her original body was even around still—so she was stuck as a bird.

“I’m sorry, Saeko. If it’s any consolation, your brother is well.”

“You’re friends?”

“Acquaintances, more like.”

She sighed again, drooping. “We’re not even in Karasuno tower then, huh. Figures.”

“I’m in Fukurodani tower,” Akaashi supplied.

“No offense, kid, but I don’t really care about you.”

It stung a little, to his surprise, but he had figured as much. “None taken. For the time being, you should stay here in my room. I promise I’ll figure this out for you.”

With a mumbled ‘whatever’ and some more cursing, she turned her avian back to him. Akaashi let out a breath, scrubbing a hand through his salt-stiff hair, before gathering clean clothes and heading to the showers. He would feel more human after he was clean. Maybe he’d be able to think clearer too.

He could hear the sounds of practice drifting up from the dueling grounds and his guilt and loneliness increased anew.

It was his own fault.

That didn’t mean he had to like it.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The showers were empty at this hour, luckily. Akaashi wasn’t feeling up to explaining the nasty bruises he could feel on his back where Bokuto had redone the seals. He lingered for a while, letting the hot water ease some of the ache in his muscles.

He started to organize his whirling thoughts piece by piece, starting with the smallest, most distracting ones and working his way deeper. He dropped them in different boxes, locking them away to deal with as he had time to.

Like it or not, Saeko’s predicament took precedence over finding the book. Then he had to figure out how to use the watch glass.

On top of that he still had normal school activities, homework, and dueling team practices.

And Bokuto.

He could still feel the ghost of his touch, could recall in excruciating detail the softness of his golden eyes as he looked down at him. He thought of the feather cloak hanging in his wardrobe, and his organized thoughts scattered into a jumble all over again.

He shut off the water harder than necessary. Drying himself off quickly and yanking his clothes on, Akaashi almost didn’t notice the other person in the shower room.

“So,” he said, iron crown dripping red, “you got someone to seal off your magic.”

“What are you doing here, Oikawa?” Akaashi asked, keeping his voice calm through willpower alone, hands forcibly steady as he buttoned up his uniform shirt. The other young man, leaning against the doorframe, straightened up with a smile that didn’t reach his eyes, sharp and far too knowing. “This isn’t your tower. I could report you.”

“Quit playing the fool. It doesn’t suit you. Who did it?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You think I don’t know what a seal looks like? The kind of _damage_ it leaves?”

His heart lurched uncomfortably in his chest. “I think,” Akaashi said, finally meeting his gaze, “that you should go.”

Oikawa’s teeth bared with the ferocity of his forced smile.

_He knows, he knows, he knows._

“You’re going to ruin yourself at this rate, Akaashi,” he spat out angrily. “Sealing magic can destroy your potential. Any child knows that. Give me a name.”

 “I already told you—”

“And I already know that you’re lying.” Oikawa closed the space between them, looming over him threateningly. “Tell me who did this to you.”

Akaashi was a believer in picking his battles wisely. But he also didn’t like being threatened. Pride stinging, fear and anger climbing up his throat, Akaashi squared his shoulders and met his glaring eyes.

“No,” he said simply.

Oikawa’s eyes narrowed. The vision of the crown intensified and Akaashi swore he saw the trailing edges of a clock draped around him, but Oikawa had grabbed the front of his shirt, hauling him forward. The collar was uncomfortably tight around Akaashi’s neck but he hung limp in his grasp, wondering exactly how far he was willing to go.

_Who did this to you._

It almost sounded like he was concerned.

Almost.

“Tell me or I swear—”

“You’ll what,” Akaashi said, nice and soft and as calm as he could manage, “hit me?”

“If that’s what it takes to get a straight answer out of you, then yes.”

Akaashi narrowed his eyes, daring him.

“Oikawa, drop him!”

That was Iwaizumi’s voice. Oikawa’s grip loosened and Akaashi took the opportunity to kick him in the chest—not bothering to hold back his strength, because he was seething and scared. The older boy stumbled back under the force of the kick, gasping for the breath he couldn’t draw.

“Iwa-chan,” he wheezed, “you don’t understand, he’s got a seal—”

“I understand that you’re in another tower without authorization, about to get both of us suspended for beating on a younger student.”

“That’s not—”

Iwaizumi grabbed him by the collar and bodily threw him out the door. He glanced back to Akaashi, nodded firmly, and vanished after Oikawa.

Akaashi sat down, hard. He didn’t think it was possible for his heart to beat any faster without passing out. His hands were shaking.

_He knows._

Not about Bokuto, at least. How did he know what a seal looked like? What was he even  _doing_  here? Was he following him? Pressing his trembling fingers to his chest, Akaashi took a few deep breaths and stood on his unsteady legs. A glance at the mirrors, magicked to never fog up in the steam, showed him pale-faced and dazed. He reached around himself, lightly touching the bruises hidden beneath his shirt.

If Oikawa went to a teacher, it was all over.

He didn’t think he would. If he was going to, surely he would have already.

“You’re going to have to do something about this,” he told his reflection. His voice was an unsteady as his hands.

He was going to have to do something about all of this, and he didn’t know where to begin.

_Focus._  He gathered his dirty clothes, folding them into his bag, and trekked back to his room, avoiding other people as much as he could.

Saeko cawed at him some more about the unfairness of her situation, but it went right through him and eventually she quieted to a fuming silence. Akaashi collapsed on his bed, staring at his wardrobe until a fitful sleep found him.

He wasn’t brave enough to venture out from his room again that day.

_He knows._

_Focus._

_He knows._

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Fukurodani tower was the tallest tower at the school, reaching precariously into the sky. The stones of the school were just as sturdy there as anywhere else, of course, just as grounded, but they had the sense of reaching. A sense of the same kind of poise a bird has just before taking off into flight.

Even before he had been assigned to the tower, Akaashi had wanted to be in Fukurodani. Those great heights had enchanted him from a distance. The reality had not disappointed, either.

 What he hadn’t figured on, as a young, bright-eyed first year, were the stairs.

By now they were a familiar thing—he knew which ones would purposely try to trip you up, he knew which ones you had to jump over or else risk getting stuck there for a good hour trying to pull your feet free, he knew that no matter how winded you got, it would only be harder if you stopped. Akaashi’s legs were strong enough to handle running up and down the stairs all day, not that he wanted to. And he was clever enough to time his movements to move with the wind that howled up and down the stairs periodically, leaving first-years blown like tumbleweeds.

No matter how much he griped about the school, Fukurodani tower was home in the same way that the ocean he was raised by was home. Perhaps more so. The little house he holed up in during the summertime was more of a waystation than a proper home.

A proper home had family, after all.

He had to firmly remind himself that Bokuto didn’t count, no matter that they had known each other the longest.

It was a new day. Akaashi didn’t feel much better or any different, but it was a new day, and he had things to sort out.

The good thing about Washio was that he was always easy to find. He was a creature of habit, mostly, and the other seniors would snitch on his whereabouts if Akaashi asked.

He was at the top of the tower—the roof of the tower, where no one was supposed to go, strictly speaking. Strictly speaking, the professors didn’t care one way or the other what they did, as long as no one was fooling around up there, so it became the unofficial hangout for the seniors.

To Akaashi’s surprise, Washio was the first to speak, even though he was moodily lounging and staring out over the turrets and the land below them. Breakfast had been a strained affair, with Akaashi unable to eat and Washio plowing angrily through his food like he meant to devour the table along with it. The others had wisely stayed quiet, even Kumiko who was usually the first to jump in and try to make them mend fences.

“Want to know a secret, Akaashi?”

He didn’t wait for a response, launching into what he wanted to say without taking a breath.

“The rumors about my family are true. I’m sure you’ve heard them.”

“Then you’ve got demon blood,” Akaashi said neutrally, not certain how he felt about this new information. The crown of flames flickered in and out of view until Akaashi blinked rapidly. The vision of wings refused to go, however.

“Hardly any.” He lifted an arm, squinting at the barely visible veins beneath the thin layers of skin. “It’s all from way back, you know. But it’s enough where people get nervous. Hell, I was accepted into the school on probation for my first entire year. Couldn’t so much as sneeze without someone writing a report about it.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

He shrugged. “I’m sharing. It’s what friends do, they tell each other stuff.”

Akaashi walked over to him with deliberate steps, sitting opposite him and curling his hands in his lap. It was an effort not to fidget with his bracelet or to shiver at the cold gusts of wind that blew past them intermittently.

“I didn’t mean to upset you. I’m sorry for that.”

“Sorry for that, but not for lying?”

Akaashi didn’t respond, which seemed not to irritate him; there was a flicker of disappointment that almost hurt worse.

“You’ve changed from when we first met, little ace,” he said abruptly.

“I grew up.”

“I don’t mean like that,” he waved away the thought irritably. “You weren’t so secretive. You acted like a kid. Now you act like you’ve got an entire world resting on your shoulders. You act like no one can help you with anything, like you’ve got it all under control even though we can all see you don’t.”

“I’m still a kid.”

“Shit, so am I, Akaashi. You get what I’m trying to say, right?”

Akaashi couldn’t help the tiny smile on his face or the warm feeling in his chest at knowing that Washio was concerned about it. It wasn’t enough to stop him from his quest, but it was still nice. “I get it.”

The senior rolled his eyes and snorted.

“Yeah, all right. Just promise me something, Akaashi.”

“What is it?”

“No more stupid stuff. No more…no more cliff diving, no more lying. Promise me you’ll take better care of yourself.”

Akaashi sucked in a breath and let it go, slowly.

“Okay,” he lied. “I’ll try.”

Washio smiled and clapped a hand to his shoulder as he got to his feet. “That’s that, then. Let’s get out of here. I bet classes are starting soon.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The day went by in a whirl. Kenma watched him carefully in their Seer class, but Akaashi still didn’t have the courage to ask him what it was he saw around him. He was thankful when they changed partners because the great shadow behind him, with its many eyes, was getting harder and harder to look at without thinking it was looking back.

Akaashi was ready to fall over by the time dueling team practice time rolled around. The stress of walking around, uncertain if he was about to be pounced on by the authorities was more of a burden than he had originally figured.

But working magic was just what he needed, especially when he needed to readjust to the restraint of all the seals on him again. He was restless all the way through drills, even though he patiently helped walk Onaga through everything; the rest of the team was overjoyed to have the first year on, and were already prodding at him to see if he had other friends who wanted to join.

Kumiko just laughed in the background.

Eventually they broke out into teams for real practice. Akaashi was desperate to play on offense, but his role was tactician, the setter, keeping him away from the middle of the court where most of the action broke out.

“Take it easy, would you?” Komi hissed to him while they were on break. “I don’t want you scaring Onaga off when we’ve only just recruited him.

“He doesn’t scare easy.”

“Idiot.” He smacked Akaashi on the back of the head, none too gently. “You’re scaring the rest of us too. Learn some restraint, yeah? You’re acting like a greenhorn spiker instead of a setter.”

“I apologize,” he managed to grate out.

“Don’t apologize, just get your head on straight, little ace.”

They returned to the field, Akaashi holding back even more. Either the seal wasn’t as effective as before, or he was just stronger. Either one was a problem.

Practice was over before he was ready, but Onaga was clearly dragging, so they all headed to the clubroom to change and head home to the tower.

 There was the usual cheerful bantering back and forth as they all changed from their practice clothes back into uniform, Konoha and Sakurui going back and forth, trying to drag Onaga into it too. The familiarity of it was a comfort.

A loud knock came at the door. It opened before anyone could answer, revealing Iwaizumi.

He nodded in short greeting to the room but his eyes went straight to Akaashi.

“Akaashi. We need to talk.”

“Hey, now,” Konoha stepped in front of him, the others not far behind. “That’s no way to say hello.”

“I don’t like that look of his,” Sakurui said as though Iwaizumi couldn’t hear. Iwaizumi glared at him, shifting his weight from one leg to the other.

The others moved before Akaashi could say anything, creating a barrier between him and Iwaizumi.

 “I’ll not let you harass my teammates,” Komi announced loudly, arms folded. “Anything you have to say to Akaashi you can say to all of us.”

“I’m not harassing—” he broke off with an aggravated huff, trying to crane his neck around the wall the seniors had created around him. Onaga was hovering uncertainly near the door still. “Damn it, just let me—it’s about yesterday, Akaashi, can you call them off?”

Yesterday meaning it had to do with Oikawa.

“It’s fine guys, you can go,” Akaashi decided after a long minute of quiet bristling passed.

“You sure, little ace?”

“I’m sure.” When they still didn’t move, Akaashi pushed at their backs. “How long have you known Iwaizumi, seriously? You know he won’t do anything.”

“He better not,” Washio groused.

But they all trooped out of the clubroom, dragging Onaga along with them and leaving Akaashi and Iwaizumi alone.

“Sorry about them,” Akaashi felt it necessary to apologize.

Iwaizumi shrugged. “Sorry about earlier,” he said brusquely, his huge body looming over Akaashi as he gathered his things.

“Do you always make Oikawa’s apologies for him,” Akaashi said lightly, “or just when you know he wouldn’t ever apologize?

Iwaizumi shrugged, scowling at some distant point.

“He screwed up. He’s too angry to be sorry now, but he will be later. That’s all I came to say.”

“Fine.”

Akaashi returned to packing up. Iwaizumi, conspicuously, remained.

“Was there something else?” he prompted.

“You’re not going to report him, right?”

“I haven’t decided,” Akaashi replied neutrally. Iwaizumi was very suddenly there, trapping him between the lockers and his body, staring down at him with fire in his eyes. No amount of willing it could drive away the vision of the greatsword on his back, nor the wolfish claws and teeth.

“Let me rephrase that. You’re not going to report him. This ends here.”

“Or else what?”

“I think you know what.” He moved out of Akaashi’s space and turned to go.

Or else he and Oikawa would tell about the seal.

“How did you know he’d be there?” Akaashi blurted out.

“Call it intuition.”

“He’s been following me.” Akaashi licked his lips, nervous. “If you would, please tell him to stop.”

“I’m no messenger, Akaashi.”

“You are for him.”

“Yeah. You’re not him.” He looked back over his shoulder, scowl still in place and dark eyes boring holes into him, daring him to say any more. “For what it’s worth, Oikawa’s right, you know. You’re going to wreck yourself if you keep that seal. I’m not going to ask you why, because frankly it’s your own damn business, but you’re an idiot for doing it.”

He nodded to himself and left.

Akaashi stared down at his shoes, remaining in the clubroom until the others poked their heads in to ask if he was okay.

He lied, saying he was fine, with a smile they seemed to believe.

 Why couldn’t things just be simple, he thought despairingly. All he wanted was to keep his secrets safe and finish this year with Bokuto alive.

One thing was for certain, he needed to get over this infatuation with the demon. He needed to start treating their relationship like the business partnership it was, instead of playing at friends.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

He called Bokuto that afternoon when he was certain he would be alone in his independent study room. The warm light filtering through the windows made the small space beautiful, the glass casting small rainbows on the walls and floor.

Akaashi made certain to use the most formal of calls, instead of just his Name.

He practically threw the feather cloak at him the moment he appeared in a soft whirl of shadow and the scent of the mountains heavy around him.

“Whoa there!” he caught it easily, blinking at Akaashi in surprise. “Something up?”

“You left that behind.”

“Yeah,” he grinned at Akaashi. “Thanks for taking care of it for me.” He swirled it back into place around his shoulders and it settled in against like it was part of him. He looked more himself with it on—more like his demon self, rather than a human. That made him safer to deal with.

Akaashi looked away from him. Safer. As if any of this was safe.

He spoke a few words, the magic twisting from his mouth with a tiny burst, and the watch glass came into view on the table. In the bright light, the faint inscriptions etched on the glass were more visible.

“Can you translate any of this?” he asked.

Bokuto squinted, crouching down and tapping the glass with one talon. “I could try,” he said doubtfully. “This is old writing. Older than me, by a lot. But I’ll do my best! I’m surprised you don’t want to do it yourself.”

“I need to focus on finding Saeko a new body. Or at least finding a way of returning her to her brother without endangering the both of us.”

“Her brother?”

Akaashi quickly filled him on her accidental time-traveling.

“Well, I guess divide and conquer.”

He hopped on top of the table, settling down leaned over the watch glass, seemingly absorbed in getting down to work. Akaashi sat his desk, pulling the pile of books he had appropriated from the library to him.

He couldn’t focus. No matter how he tried.

His eyes kept going to Bokuto, who was muttering to himself, turning the watch glass over in his hands and frowning at him in concentration.

“Can I ask you something?” Akaashi finally asked when it appeared he would be getting nowhere with his research. Bokuto grunted an affirmative, not taking his eyes from the glass. An aura of magic was around him, faint and yellow as the sun.

“Why didn’t you kill me with the rest of them? The day we met,” he added as Bokuto turned his head to look at him. Bokuto smiled, but it felt off somehow, like he was trying to hide something. He set the glass down deliberately.

“What’s the answer worth to you?”

Akaashi sighed, not looking down at the single black bead left on his bracelet. It seemed to grow more translucent by the day. He used to think of it as a bond, but now it only felt like a countdown.

“You already have my soul, Bokuto. I think you could give me an answer in exchange.”

“I do give you answers,” he grumbled, a bit petulant. He pointed towards one of the charms Akaashi had been making earlier and hadn’t managed to clear away completely. “I want one of those.”

“No.”

“What? They’re my feathers!”

“You dropped them. They’re my charms.”

“Akaashi,” he whined. “Not even one?”

“I need them.”

“All of them? C’mon, Akaashi—”

“Well, what do _you_ need it for?”

He shrugged, obviously moping. “Looks nice, is all.”

Akaashi scooped up one of the nicer looking ones, holding it carefully in his hands before walking over to present it to Bokuto. He perked up at once, eyes gleaming, but didn’t reach for it.

“Tell me,” Akaashi prompted.

“I don’t really know,” he said at last. “I remember seeing you and thinking what a waste it would be for you to die.”

“A waste?”

“Well, sure.” He scratched at his head, ruffling the spikes of grey hair. “You were just a kid. And I could see the magic in you.”

“But you’re a demon.”

“Doesn’t mean I’ve got no heart, Akaashi.” Bokuto frowned and finally took charm from him, holding it delicately between his talons. “What’s this supposed to do, anyway?”

“It’s for protection, good luck.”

“What do you need so many for?” Bokuto laughed.

“They look nice, is all,” he quipped back, making him laugh harder.

Akaashi let out of a laugh of his own, helpless to the infectious sound, to the intimacy between them that he couldn’t shake no matter how much he wanted to. It was perhaps ironic, to use something that belonged as a demon for protection, but Bokuto had saved him many times over.

Maybe not so ironic, then.

_I’ve got to do something about this._

Tomorrow. He would do something about it tomorrow.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

After several long hours, the afternoon light changed to the more colorful light of the setting sun. He dismissed Bokuto as formally as he had called him, earning himself an odd look and one strong hand ruffling his hair before the demon vanished.

Akaashi had gotten nowhere with his research. He had found records of a Tanaka Saeko, a small record of her vanishing two years past without a trace, but nothing else. No clues on how to find her body; no clues on what kind of binding spell he could use to silence her about the events of that night that wouldn’t be illegal.

She would be officially questioned, once she was found out, which meant a truth spell. Akaashi couldn’t have that. He rather fancied staying alive for the time being.

He went for a walk on the grounds in the fading light, hoping that _that_ would clear his head.

“Heard you had a run-in with the Seijou boys.”

Akaashi flinched in surprise at hearing Kuroo’s voice. The taller boy grinned as he spun around. He was leaning casually against the fence to the pegasus paddocks, feet bare as ever but a heavy sweater on. He wore of necklace of what looked like several of Kenma’s bone charm beads.

“You should know better than to listen to gossip,” Akaashi said lightly.

Kuroo threw back his head and laughed. “So it’s true! What’d you do to piss Oikawa off, huh?”

“Existing, I think,” he said, keeping his tone dry. Kuroo shook his head.

“Help me with these, yeah?”

Akaashi glanced to the bales of hay stacked by him and rolled up his sleeves with a sigh. The bales were heavy, but between the two of them it was easy to toss them over the fence. The moment they did, several pegasi came trotting over, heavy wings folded against their backs. They were gentle creatures. Akaashi always envied the simplicity of their lives.

“So are you going to report that he was in your tower?”

“I’m no snitch.”

Even if it wasn’t too dangerous, it would ruin the unauthorized visits he knew that half the student body paid to the other towers. Kuroo grunted in agreement, reaching out to rub the soft nose of one of the beasts.

“I’ve got something to tell you, just between us.”

“Is this about Kenma?”

“It’s about you.”

It seemed that more and more people had things to say about him. Akaashi wasn’t sure how he felt about that.

“Something’s going on with you. Something big, something dark. Kenma can see it. I can see it. You better believe your team can see it. I think maybe that was what Oikawa was on you about.”

Akaashi didn’t answer and Kuroo sighed.

“We all push the limits, one way or another.” Kuroo heaved the last bale over the fence. “You’re pushing pretty damn hard though, man. Maybe it’s not my place to tell you that, but I don’t want you dragging Kenma into whatever mess you’re headed for.”

Akaashi struggled to find the appropriate words, heart hammering with a combination of fear and anger.

“I think Kenma can decide for himself—”

“Yeah, but that’s the problem, Akaashi.” He folded his arms over his chest and even though there was several feet between them it felt like he was looming over him. “Kenma would follow you all the way down to hell if you asked him. You wouldn’t even have to ask, probably.”

Most of Akaashi’s anger faded away with those words. They both knew it was true, just like the both could tell that Akaashi wasn’t headed anywhere good. He was slipping up, making his problems this visible to other people.

 “He’d come back, for you.”

Something soft briefly crossed Kuroo’s face. “Yeah. But I don’t want my boy in hell. I don’t want you in hell either. That clear enough for you?”

“Like crystal.”

Kuroo sighed. “Then why do I get the feeling you have intention of stopping what you’re doing?”

Akaashi looked away. There were any number of blithe answers he could give. The truth was worse than all of them.

“What are you so worried about me for, anyway?” he finally said, knowing he was just avoiding the subject. Kuroo graciously let him, pressing a hand to his chest in mock insult.

“Why, I’m always this nice, Akaashi!”

Akaashi smiled at his laughter.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

He sent a small note fluttering off to Kenma that night.

**What do you see around me?**

To his surprise it didn’t take long for answer to come.

**Stars, all around you.**

**That’s all?**

**Blood. Fire.**  There was an obvious hesitation in the way he wrote, his usually cramped writing more spaced out and wobbling. **Death.**

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!


	6. Fire

He started the day determined to find answers.

_How is demon symbology going to help get my body back?_ Saeko snapped in his ear and he shrugged her off his shoulder. Offended, she hopped on top of some of the other books he had stacked on his desk.

“I have to explore all possible avenues. You’re an anomaly, you know? No one’s ever done what you’ve done before.”

_And you don’t want to be found out being buddy-buddy with your demon paramour._

“He’s not—” Akaashi didn’t even want to say that word. “He’s not. What we have is purely a business arrangement.”

Saeko laughed uproariously. Akaashi had never been so thankful for the silencing spells built into the walls that would keep his neighbors from hearing all the cawing.  _Yeah, yeah. He gets your soul, you get laid, I got it._

“He teaches me magic,” he said coolly. “If you don’t mind, I’m trying to read.”

She laughed some more, but left him to his books.

There wasn’t much to find. Hints, here and there, vague statements about returning lost souls to bodies. But all he had was a soul without her true vessel. And any spells he found on memory alteration were no good. They would either clear out her entire mind—which was entirely unfair, not even he was willing to do that—or would bind Saeko to him in a permanent way.

He couldn’t do that. He just couldn’t.

“Akaashi!”

Someone slammed his door open, startling him up from his desk. Saeko cawed, discontent, having been fast asleep atop a stack of books.

“Fire!” Sarukui gasped out before Akaashi could ask what was wrong. “There’s a fire, quick, we have to get out of the tower!”

“What?”

“Just—come on!” He grabbed him by the arm, yanking him along out the door. In the hallway, he could smell the faint scent of smoke from above. There were already other students milling in the hall, heading down at the direction of the older ones. Saeko flew out past them, flapping above everyone’s heads.

_I’ll check the other towers_ , she called out to Akaashi before flying off.

“Do we know how it started?”

“No time, little ace,” Sarukui said, dragging him along with the crowd. “Get out first, ask questions later.”

It was almost unbearable to observe all the Fukurodani students in motion; with their emotions running high, there were more things Akaashi could see around them. Most of them had wings flickering in and out around them, throwing off his depth perception. He held tight to Sarukui, trusting him to guide him safely down. Even so, he still stumbled a few times over familiar steps, trying to avoid things that weren’t really there.

“Oh good, you’ve got Akaashi.” Konoha came up on his other side, leading a band of second years. “I think that’s everyone in the tower.”

 “We’ll do a head count at the bottom,” Komi shouted from up ahead.  “So just keep moving!”

They managed to worm their way through the crowd to where the other third years were. Akaashi felt better seeing them, even though there was still a heavy seed of panic in his gut.

They rounded a corner on the stairs and drew up short.

“Shit,” Washio cursed, holding out his arms to block the frightened first years from going any further. “It’s coming from below too.”

“The professors are on their way,” Komi said, voice tight, “we just have to stay away from the fire and the smoke as much as possible until they get here.”

If Bokuto was here, he could release Akaashi’s seals and Akaashi could quell the fire both above and below. If Bokuto was here, he could keep everyone safe. Even considering it was foolish. A demon, amidst all these humans? And they would know his connection with him.

_If only I had more power._

Rather, if only he had the freedom to use that power.

Akaashi glanced back over his shoulder at the rest of Fukurodani and saw nothing but fear.

“Onaga,” he called out, and the first year snapped to attention. “Do a head count, make sure everyone’s here. And spread the word to keep calm. The professors are on their way as we speak.” He pitched his voice to carry as far as it could. The restless fidgeting of the first years died down somewhat.

“They better get here fast,” Konoha muttered nervously. “This is enchanted fire.”

Which meant someone had set it. This had been no accident. From the grim looks on all the third years’ faces, they were all thinking the same thing. Akaashi swallowed hard and then held out his hands.

“If we pool our power,” he said hoarsely, thinking desperately quick, “we can push it back.”

“I only know spells for starting fires,” Konoha said doubtfully, taking his hand anyway. The surge of power came rushing through his skin, doubling as Washio took his other hand.

“Komi knows one.”

“Me? I mean, I’ve been learning the theory—”

“I’d said it’s time to put theory into practice.” Washio grabbed Komi’s hand and their combined magic surged towards him, weaving into his. To Akaashi’s eyes, they were all glowing and golden with the shared magic. He could distantly hear Onaga’s voice still. Good. He was a good kid.

Komi nodded tightly, closing his eyes and starting to whisper the words. They dripped from his mouth, heavy and nearly tangible. The smoke visibly began to lessen though the fire raged on, creeping ever closer.

_C’mon, Komi, you can do this_. Akaashi willed more of his magic towards him, cursing inwardly when he bumped up to the edges of his seals.

All in a rush, the fire before them was gone, leaving charred stone and wood behind. Akaashi was drenched in sweat. The others were no better off.

Sarukui was the one to raise his voice.

“All right, everyone, let’s move! There’s still fire upstairs!”

They all trooped down quickly, nearly colliding with the professors as they finally arrived and darted up the stairs to go put an end to the fire. Professor Ukai gave the third years and Akaashi a hard look before ordering them to the Medical wing and taking off after the other teachers.

Which left Akaashi with the question of who had started the fire.

Not Oikawa. He was reckless, but only with himself.

Then who?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“Of course I didn’t start a fire,” Bokuto said around a mouthful of the riceball he had stolen from Akaashi. “Why would I do that to a bunch of kids?”

The fact that he viewed Akaashi as one of those ‘kids’ stung a little, but Akaashi also felt an overwhelming sense of relief at hearing him say those words. Bokuto frowned at him.

“Seriously, you thought it was me?”

“I was just considering all the options.”

“Sounds to me like you’re just being paranoid. Who knows, maybe it was an accident!”

Akaashi wished he could believe that. He really did.

“Do you have any enemies that might have tracked you to my tower?”

“Enemies?” He seemed surprised, then thoughtful as he chewed the last bite. “I have rivals—comes with being one of the strongest around, but they wouldn’t go after a school, I don’t think. They’re more direct than that.”

Akaashi relaxed. That meant it had been someone in the school. It was only a matter of time, then, until they were found out and brought to justice. Bokuto sat up straighter after a moment passed, golden eyes going perfectly wide and round.

“Terushima,” he spat out like a curse. “That bastard. I wouldn’t put it past him.”

Akaashi resisted the urge to close his eyes. “So you do have an enemy.”

Bokuto shook his head. “Not so much an enemy. He just likes to cause trouble. He probably tracked me here and decided it would be fun to light the place up. He’s got a thing for fire.”

“Are you certain about this?”

“I’ll have to check the source to look for the traces he’ll have left. You know that.” He hopped up to feet, brushing off his hands. “Let’s go!”

“Wait.” Akaashi scrambled to his feet to catch up with him before he reached the door, grabbing his arm to pull him to a halt. “You can’t go like that.”

Bokuto turned slightly back towards him, brow furrowed curiously. Akaashi had never been so acutely aware of the heat of Bokuto’s skin on his, of the muscles that lay just beneath the demon’s skin and how they shifted, tense against his palm and fingers.

Akaashi let go like he’d been burned.

“You’ll be recognized as a demon and we’ll both be dead,” he said, voice faintly hoarse. Bokuto’s feather cloak ruffled like a bird hunching its wings protectively.

In the next moment, Bokuto twisted with a muttered word that rustled like leaves in Akaashi’s ears, and he was gone—replaced by a huge owl that looked remarkably like him. He hooted once, low, and flapped up to Akaashi’s shoulder.

_Better?_  he asked, obviously pleased with the shock Akaashi couldn’t properly hide.

It would have to do.

Squaring his shoulders, Akaashi left his room, walking up the winding stairs with purpose, giving only the barest of greetings to those who called out his name. His heart was pounding the whole way, something he couldn’t rightfully blame on the exertion of the climb. If Bokuto noticed at all, he gave no sign of it, a happily fluffed warm weight on his shoulder.

_We should have done this ages ago! This is fun!_

Akaashi eyed him sideways, not quite a glare. He stopped near the entrance to the roof, where the charring was the worst. The hatch to the roof was completely gone, a heavy draft coming down despite the spell in place to keep the elements out. Bokuto hopped from his shoulder, coasting down to the floor and inspecting it carefully.

Akaashi had to bite his lip to keep back a laugh. Bokuto really did look similar to this new bird form, down to the head tilting, the tufts of feathers sticking up on his head, and the wide golden eyes.

_It sure smells like Terushima_ , he said with an unhappy hoot.

“Will he be back, you think?”

_Depends on if he’s bored enough, really. I wouldn’t put it past him._

“What are you doing here? We told all students to keep their distance.” Akaashi startled at the new voice from behind him, whirling around and stepping protectively in front of Bokuto. There were three professors—Ukai, Takeda, and one he recognized as being from the Date tower.

“I must have missed the announcement,” he said. He hadn’t.

They all stared at him suspiciously until Bokuto shifted behind him, drawing their attention.

“And what’s this?”

“He’s my familiar,” Akaashi lied, skin going slick with a cold sweat.

“Oh?” Takeda asked with raised brows.

 “It’s for part of my independent study.”

Ukai grunted, arms still folded and still squinting suspiciously at Bokuto in his bird form.

“Second years don’t usually get independent studies,” Ukai barked out.

“No, sir. They made an exception for me.”

“I know who you are. Believe me. Best if you clear off now, we’ve got work to do here.”

“Yes, sir.” Akaashi bent down, offering his arm to Bokuto, who hopped aboard without question, side-stepping to his perch on his shoulder and fluffing himself up imperiously under the gazes of the professors. Akaashi was quick to clear off, taking the stairs down at a quick trot.

_Easy there, Akaashi_ , Bokuto said, spreading his wings for balance.

They could have been caught. It could have been all over for him, all because he was careless enough to carry Bokuto around in this form. Not to mention, he had been giving Saeko permission to fly around the entire school.

Not to mention this was yet another bump in the road that led to the book.

“I need Terushima out of the picture,” he said in an undertone. Bokuto made a disgruntled noise, sounding strange in his owl form.

_It’s not as simple as asking him please, you know?_

“Are you saying you can’t do it?”

_I’m saying—watch out!_

He screeched in Akaashi’s ear and Akaashi stumbled to a halt, nearly pitching down the stairs face-first before a set of familiar hands caught him by the arms.

“Whoa there, Akaashi, where’s the fire?” Washio laughed at his own poor joke, still holding him steady. “What’s with the bird?”

Bokuto let out a loud hiss, snapping his beak at Washio’s fingers and making him let go hastily.

“Don’t bite Bo—” Akaashi bit off the rest of the name before it could spill out of his mouth, swallowing it down. Washio grinned, observing Bokuto from a safer distance.

“Bo, huh? Cute name for a fierce guy. New familiar?”

“Yes,” Akaashi said, relieved that he accepted the lie as truth. “I didn’t mean to run into you, I wasn’t looking where I was going.”

“Just be more careful next time!” He slapped Akaashi on the back, laughing when Bokuto hissed again, fanning out his wings threateningly. “Can’t have our little ace injuring himself before the first duel of the year!”

Once Washio was safely out of earshot, Akaashi glared at Bokuto.

“What was that about?” he hissed out, taking the next flight of stairs to his room more slowly. Bokuto didn’t answer except for nearly inaudible but grumpy muttering and hooting to himself, hunched down on his shoulder. Akaashi sighed and unlocked his door with simple twist of his wrist and a muttered word that clicked against the back of his teeth. “He’s my friend, you didn’t have to be rude.”

_Little ace?_ Bokuto questioned, still sounding sullen. His body twisted mid-air and he took back his usual humanoid form. “What kind of nickname is that?”

Akaashi flushed, looking away. It was easier to ignore his feelings when Bokuto was a bird, easier to deal with him being close. “I’m the ace of the dueling team, that’s all.”

“Which is…what?”

“Fighting each other with magic, essentially. There are more rules, but—”

“Well, of course you’re the ace then!” He let out a booming laugh, placing one hand on his hip and jamming this thumb towards his chest. “Since you’ve got me to teach you all there is to know about magic!”

With a smile, Akaashi shook his head. “Not everything,” was his dry reply, “but you’ve certainly helped.”

Bokuto’s smile widened, crinkling up his eyes. Akaashi smiled back before his thoughts went back to Terushima and the charred stone, the fear he had seen on the faces of all the Fukurodani students.

“I need you to make sure this doesn’t happen again.”

“Terushima,” Bokuto scratched at his head, smile fading into a more pensive expression. “He won’t be that easy to stop.”

“I need him to keep away from the school.” Akaashi waited a few beats. “Don’t make me turn it into an order.”

He shot Akaashi a dour look. “You’re serious, I get it. I’ll take care of it. Somehow,” he added in an undertone to himself.

“I knew I could count on you,” Akaashi said, knowing it would lift his spirits. Sure enough, Bokuto perked up at once, more energy in his body as he jabbered on about what he might do and then launched himself from the balcony, disappearing in a rush of air, leaving nothing behind but the all-too familiar scent of fire and feathers.

Akaashi sagged against the bedpost, feeling relief and anxiety in equal measures.

It was frightening to him, how dependent he was on Bokuto. A demon. He used to think of him purely in those terms—it was ‘the demon’. Then ‘my demon’. And then—

_“Bokuto!” he screamed, running to the downed figure amidst the smoke. He was in a huddled mass, heavy coughs wracking his body. Akaashi could smell blood, the metallic scent turning his stomach._

_“Bokuto,” he said again, quieter, hands hovering over him, afraid to touch. Was he dying? It sounded like he was dying. The hit he had taken would have killed any normal person, certainly. But he couldn’t die, he couldn’t leave Akaashi alone again._

_The demon laughed then coughed, some more, rolling over onto his back. He wore a bloodstained grin, eyes tight with pain._

_“I think that’s the first time you’ve called me by name, kid,” he said._

_“You’re not dead?”_

_“Takes more than a bad-tempered wyvern to take me out,” he boasted, then coughed again, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth. Akaashi pressed his hands to his chest, ignoring how the demon winced, and started whispering the words of the only healing spell he knew. It wouldn’t do much good probably, but it was the best he could do._

_Bokuto curled a hand over top of his, skin warm._

_“Repeat after me, ‘kay?” he said, and began speaking the words of a new spell, one that felt cool and fresh like a spring breeze dancing around them. Akaashi’s voice shook, but he felt calmer with Bokuto guiding him._

_“Thanks, kid.”_

_“I’m not a kid.”_

_Bokuto snorted. “You’re what, thirteen?”_

_“And a half.”_

_“That makes you a kid, kid.”_

_“At least call me Akaashi.”_

_Bokuto’s expression softened and he ruffled Akaashi’s hair with his bloodied hands. “Only if you keep calling me Bokuto.”_

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 The other towers were not hit with fire like Fukurodani had been. The professors tried to keep everyone calm, with middling success, as the days went by. Akaashi noticed that many of the Fukurodani students took to traveling in packs wherever they went, eyeing students from outside towers with distrust.

Akaashi himself could hardly go anywhere without the rest of the dueling team tagging along with him, or Saeko asking to go too.

He took to holing himself up in his room whenever he was on break just to escape the tension. But even then, people kept knocking at his door and dropping by on their breaks to seemingly be in his presence before moving on. As much as he cared for them, it was starting to grate on his nerves.

“For the last time,” Akaashi said, flinging the door open at the persistent knocking, “I’m trying to study—”

But it wasn’t Sarukui, whom he had just sent off not five minutes ago.

“Akaashi.” Oikawa gave him a slow once-over. “You’re looking well.”

“Oikawa,” Akaashi said stiffly. “What do you want?”

“That’s no way to talk to your elders, is it? And here I thought you were all about being polite.” He stepped closer. Akaashi took a countering step back, considering his options. Before he could speak again, Oikawa continued on, like they were having a normal conversation. “I can show you a way to hide it.”

Akaashi was still looking for an escape route as Oikawa moved closer.

“I didn’t report you before, but come any closer—”

“I’m trying to help you!” he said through his teeth, clearly frustrated. He looked away sharply, glaring at the wall. Behind his glasses, his eyes were darkly shadowed and faintly bloodshot. “I’m not here to fight. Let’s talk.”

“If I say no?”

“That’s not an option.”

_I don’t like him_ , Saeko squawked in the background, drawing Oikawa’s attention. His frown deepened.

“I get that you don’t trust me. But I just—I’ve been where you are before.” He said the words like they caused him physical pain.

_You think I don’t know what kind of_ damage _it leaves?_

He must have had a seal placed on him. Somehow. No one at the school would do that, so Akaashi didn’t know where or how. Not that that was a pressing concern at the moment. It had ruined him, somehow, damaged his potential.

Akaashi felt bad for him, but that didn’t mean he was willing to trust him.

“No offense,” Akaashi said, thinking of Bokuto, “but I sincerely doubt that.”

“Just let me talk.” His eyes flitted around Akaashi’s room. “Not here. Somewhere safer.”

Akaashi stared at him in mutinous silence for several long moments.

He sighed.

“I have an independent study room. I’ll listen to what you have to say, then you leave me alone.”

“Fair enough.”

_Should I come with?_  Saeko asked _. I can peck his eyes out for ya_.

Akaashi shook his head at her, closing the door before she could fly out.

The long walk to Akaashi’s study room was done in a tense silence. Akaashi stared straight ahead, heart pounding, hands sweating. With all his seals in place, he doubted he could face Oikawa head-on if it came down to it. And with Iwaizumi nowhere in sight and Saeko left behind, he was truly on his own.

He was starting to wish he had brought her.

“Gonna invite me in?” Oikawa asked flatly when Akaashi crossed over the threshold to and into the room. He let him stand there a few moments. That threshold was his last line of defense against whatever was coming.

“Please come in,” he said.

Oikawa stepped inside, shutting the door behind him.

He took a breath. Smiled. The iron crown, bloodied, flickered in and out of view.

“I can show you a way to hide it. A way that doesn’t involve seals. It’ll take a lot of control on your part, but something tells me that won’t be a problem for you.”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“You’ve got power, and too much of it. No way otherwise you’d do this to yourself. But you’re going to ruin yourself this way.” Oikawa’s dark eyes were intent on his, more genuine than he’d ever seen him be before. “You’ll ruin yourself the way I did. I don’t know what other shit you’re getting into—believe me, I’ll do my best to find out—but I’m not about to watch somebody like you wreck their potential over some rookie mistake like this.”

“Somebody like me.”

Oikawa’s smile was almost a sneer. “A  _prodigy_.”

“ _You’re_  a prodigy. One of the best anybody’s seen.”

“And I’ve worked hard to keep it that way.” His hands went to his uniform, unbuttoning his shirt with nimble fingers, wrenching it off carelessly. “You want proof of my mistake, then here.”

Oikawa turned his naked back to him and Akaashi bit back a gasp.

The scarring was red and raw looking, a perfect circle in the center of his back. As quickly as he had stripped down, Oikawa pulled his shirt back on, leaving Akaashi blinking away the image, heart in his throat.

That was the damage from one seal. Akaashi had four.

Bokuto had talked about side-effects and consequences, but he hadn’t been truly listening to him.

“Believe me yet?” he asked icily.

Akaashi had no words, so he just nodded.

“Good. Then you have nothing to argue about. I’m going to teach you the spell to hide your power so you can get rid of those things already.”

“What’s in this for you?” Akaashi blurted out. Oikawa paused mid-step on his way towards Akaashi’s desk. He turned to Akaashi ever so slowly.

“A clear conscience, for one.”

“You don’t even like me.”

“You’re right. I don’t.” He grabbed a piece of paper and started scribbling away. “You’re too sly, you’re too powerful, you’re too pretty. A deadly combination.”

When Akaashi didn’t reply, Oikawa sighed.

“A joke, it’s a joke. It’s not like I hate you.”

“Did Iwaizumi—”

“He doesn’t know I’m here. And I’d like to keep it that way.”

Akaashi listened to the sound of pen on paper until he couldn’t stand it.

“He apologized for you, you know.”

Oikawa’s shoulders went tense but he kept writing. “Sounds like him,” he murmured with no inflection. He straightened up and shoved the paper towards Akaashi, leaving him with no choice but to take it, and turned to leave.

At a glance it made no sense to him. But it was clearly a homemade spell, something that had taken a lot of work.

“Thank you,” he called out after him, belatedly. Oikawa lifted a lazy hand in the air, not bothering to turn around on his way out the door.

 A homemade spell.

Akaashi hurried back to him room, mind whirling.

“I have an idea,” he said to Saeko. She perked up, peering at him with her beady black eyes. “It might not work,” he admitted, “but if it does, you’ll get your body back.”

_What are we waiting for?_

“It’s dangerous. You might…not make it.”

_Anything’s better than this, kid._

Akaashi nodded. “I’m going to need your help. We’ll be making our own spell.”

But first, he had to figure out the mess Oikawa had handed him. He’d need all the magic he had in order to make this work.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

It took the better part of a week for him to figure out exactly how Oikawa’s spell worked. It was by far the most intricate of illusionary spells he had ever seen—pure genius. He wondered how long it had taken him to come up with.

He wondered how much it had hurt to hand it over freely.

There was more to Oikawa than he’d originally bargained on.

He met Bokuto in the forest where they’d trapped Saeko—far enough away from the school that no one should notice what he was doing, close enough that Bokuto could get him back in case things  went terribly wrong.

“After all the trouble we went to sealing everything off,” Bokuto sighed, rubbing a taloned hand through his spiky hair.

“I’ve checked every detail of the spell. It’s foolproof.” Provided it worked, anyway.

“It’s not going to be pleasant. Especially not with two of the seals being so freshly re-done.”

Akaashi ignored that statement, making quick work of removing his shirt.

“You’re sure about this, Akaashi?” Bokuto asked, pressing both hands to his back. Akaashi shivered from more than just the cool air of the forest.

“Just do it,” he said. Before I can change my mind.

His world became pain.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“You know,” Bokuto said when Akaashi finally managed to drag his eyes open. The feather cloak was draped around him once more and his head was in Bokuto’s lap. “You humans are weird. What’s the point of having magic if you have to hide it?”

“I don’t know,” he said, voice hoarse and dry. He tried to sit up only to fall back down immediately, floored by the ache in his head and the searing pain down his spine.

“Easy there, Akaashi.” Bokuto dropped a hand on top of his head, mussing his hair gently. “There you go, trying to run before you can walk.”

Akaashi couldn’t so much as breathe without being aware of the pain. But he was also aware of his magic running rampant throughout his whole body like he’d never set it loose before and it was glorious.

 “How long was I out?”

“Dunno. Hour, maybe two.” His hand stayed where it was and Akaashi didn’t have the strength nor the heart to move it away.

 He tried to sit up, slower this time, Bokuto’s hands shifting to assist in holding him upright. The cloak slid to his waist, baring him to the air and he shivered, casting around for his shirt.

“Easy, easy,” Bokuto was still muttering, gathering up his cloak and throwing it around Akaashi’s shoulders. Like it was the natural thing to do. Still, Akaashi appreciated the gesture, gratefully drawing the edges close around him. The sooner he could do Oikawa’s spell, the sooner he could leave; the sooner he could get to work on the spell for Saeko and then return to the search for the book.

Everything would work out.

“Thank you,” he said, perhaps unnecessarily.

Bokuto seemed surprised. “Well, sure. It was no big thing. You’re the one that has to deal with the consequences, not me.”

“Not for that. For that too, rather. Thank you for watching over me.”

Bokuto flushed under his gaze, fidgeting with his hands. “That’s just business as usual. Gotta look out for my favorite human.”

The corners of Akaashi’s lips tugged upwards. “How many humans do you even know?”

“Just you.” Bokuto shrugged. “But if I knew more, you’d still be my favorite.”

 “High praise, for a demon,” Akaashi said dryly, trying to joke to conceal how deeply those words touched him. He shifted experimentally, stretching the muscles of his back, and found it not quite as unbearable as before. The memory of Oikawa’s scars were still clear in his mind. Would he have scars of his own to bear?

 “Hold still,” Bokuto murmured, reaching up with a lazy hand and pulling something gently from his hair. Akaashi watched in a soft haze as he spread his long fingers to reveal a butterfly—unlike any other he had seen, pure white. The insect sat there, fluttering its wings a few times before taking off into the air and dancing away.

“It’s a sign of good luck,” Bokuto told him, watching it fly off with a small smile. Akaashi only had eyes for him. There was grass in his wild hair and he looked more human than he’d ever seen him before.

Bokuto licked absently at his lips and Akaashi’s heart lurched.

“A butterfly?”

“Not just a  butterfly. The white ones are called the Sorcerer’s butterfly. It’s good luck. They only go to people with tons of power who are worthy of it.”

“I’ve never heard of that before.”

“Well,” he shrugged, “it’s more of a demon story, I think. Most humans don’t get powerful enough to draw much attention, you know? That makes you special.” Bokuto grinned at him, talons curling delicately through the long grass.

Special. It wasn’t like he hadn’t been called that before. Yet for some reason, hearing that word felt good, coming from Bokuto.

He turned his gaze to the canopy of the trees, to the sunlight filtering through the rustling leaves. Gathering his thoughts was a difficult process, but he tried to organize himself as best as he could, the feathers soft on his skin. First, the spell. Then, Saeko. Then, the book.

“Is Terushima taken care of?”

“Ah, well…”

Akaashi sat up straighter, wincing. “Bokuto, it’s been a week.”

“I can’t find him,” he said with a small, nervous laugh. “I can find traces of where he’s been, but—”

“Bokuto, I trusted you to—”

“I’ll find him, okay? I will. These things take time, demons aren’t the same as you humans, we don’t—just stay in places like you do.”

“I thought you had territories,” Akaashi said, frowning at him.

“We have home territories, but that doesn’t mean we’re there all that often. I mean, the chances you find me in the Red Glades are ten to one on a good day.” Bokuto rolled his shoulders uncomfortably, looking guilty. “I’ll find him. I promise. You just have to give me more time.”

“And in the meantime I’m supposed to do what, exactly?”

“Focus on your own problems.” Bokuto’s chest puffed up a bit. “I’ve been keeping a watch over the school. You’re safe.”

It wasn’t himself that Akaashi was worried about so much as he was the other students. If he got hurt, it was his own fault for getting involved with demons in the first place, but they had done nothing wrong. Akaashi gathered his legs underneath him and braced himself to stand—only to crumple with a gasp as his back screamed at him to stop moving. Bokuto’s hands caught him before he could fall on his face, easing him carefully down to lay on his side.

Seals are a nasty business, Bokuto had told him once, when he first brought up the subject. He could truly believe that now.

“My bag, Bokuto,” Akaashi sighed in defeat. “The spell is in my bag.”

“You can’t even stand, you’re not doing any magic work.” Bokuto settled back on the ground, entirely too close to him. “Go back to sleep. You’ll wake up when you’re ready to work again.”

“That’s not how that works. I don’t have time to sleep.”

“Forcing yourself to work when your body isn’t ready for it will only make things worse. Don’t you think you’re being a little reckless here? Saeko has waited this long, she can wait a little longer. It’s not like you’ll be able to figure things out right away, anyway.”

“No, but I can’t just keep disappearing from the school for hours on end either.”

“There’s no helping that.” Bokuto’s hand returned to his head, fingers dropping over his eyes to shade them from the light. “Just rest.”

 Akaashi should have protested more. He wanted to. Another part of him wanted to listen to Bokuto. He moved Bokuto’s hand away, perhaps letting his fingers linger longer than necessary on his skin, and closed his eyes.

Much as he hated to admit it, Bokuto was right. The spell would have to wait. Saeko would have to wait, much longer. He needed his full strength to deal with both, and breaking the seals had stolen that from him temporarily.

“Tell me a story, Bokuto,” he said quietly.

He lost himself in Bokuto’s voice and the words he spun, brilliant gold from his tongue.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 By the time Akaashi woke again, hours had passed. He did feel better prepared to take on the unnervingly complex spell that Oikawa had given to him.

The words slid cold and slippery from his mouth, clinging close to his skin like an oil—a feeling that did not fade once he was finished.

“Is it working?” he asked Bokuto, wriggling his fingers and rolling his shoulders to see if the illusion really would stretch with him. It did. Nothing less than the best from Oikawa.

“I can feel your magic but it’s nothing like before.” Bokuto leaned in close, his face bare inches away, eyes squinted. “It’s muted. Like there’s a curtain between us.”

It would take diligence to maintain this at all hours of the day, but Akaashi would just have to manage. More than that, it would take a great deal of effort not to use his full strength even though it was freely available to him now. If Oikawa had been using it to trick the professors for who knew how long, then it would work for Akaashi too.

It had to.

It felt like a weight had lifted from him, as uncomfortable as he was.

“Take me back,” he said to Bokuto. “To the edge of the grounds. I’ll walk the rest of the way.”

“What? I can take you all the way back to your room—”

“I want you to focus on finding Terushima and making sure he doesn’t set more fires.” He didn’t speak sharply but Bokuto still flinched. “And besides, I need the practice with maintaining this spell.”

He relaxed, but still looked unhappy as he flew Akaashi to the edge of the school grounds. Akaashi waited until the demon was out of sight to start walking back, picking his way across the rocky fields.

The closer he got to the school, the more students he saw wandering the grounds. He tried to greet them as he normally would, even though he was on-edge. If any of them noticed anything different about him, they didn’t say. The true test would be the Fukurodani team and the others who knew him well—

“I didn’t expect to find you out here, Akaashi.”

It was Iwaizumi. He squinted at Akaashi, looking him up and down.

“Oikawa talked to you?”

“He did,” Akaashi said after several moments. There were a few shouts in the distance, a voice he recognized as Kyoutani’s—the Mad Dog. That meant Oikawa and the rest of the Seijou dueling wouldn’t be far. Iwaizumi grunted and clapped a hand on his shoulder, almost hard enough to make him stumble.

“Good. Then everything’s good. I’ll see you around.”

He went off in the direction of the voices; if Akaashi looked carefully, he could see the rest of the Seijou team just around the edge of an outcropping of rocks overgrown with moss.

The spell was really working then.

Akaashi’s lips pulled up in a smile before he schooled his expression to neutrality.

Now, to take care of Saeko.

 She seemed impressed with the spellwork Oikawa had given to him and how it was working—less so when he explained how much time it would probably take to cook up their own spell that would both clear her memories of the night they encountered each other in the cave as well as return her to her body.

_Aren’t you supposed to be one of the ace students around here?_

“How do you even know that?”

She gave an avian shrug, eating the handful of berries he had brought for her. _People talk. Ever since you gave me permission to fly around, I’ve been listening._

“You haven’t—”

_You have me under a compulsion to not talk to anyone that isn’t you. I’m just watching. Asshole_ , she added in an undertone. Akaashi could take the insult, knowing that they were all still safe.

“Even so. Spell-making is a highly dangerous line of work. Not just anyone is capable of inventing their own.”

_That Oikawa fellow did it._

“He’s a third year. A prodigy.”

_More like a workaholic, if you ask me_. Saeko regarded him for a few moments. _Whatever. You really think you can do this?_

“With enough time, and with Bokuto helping, I believe it to be possible.”

_That’s good enough then, I guess._

Akaashi buried himself in his books, not taking note of the passage of time until it got dark enough where he needed to light the candles and the fire to see by. He stretched with a sigh, back giving a satisfying, liquid crunch as he did. There was little he enjoyed more than productive research. There was a surprising amount of books on spell-making that he ‘borrowed’ from the library and took up to his room—probably the same ones Oikawa had studied. It was easy to imagine the other boy bent over the tomes at all hours of the night. It was all theory, of course, but with Bokuto helping, he had little doubt that he could turn that theory into reality.

 A loud crash came from the balcony, sending Saeko into the air with a shout.

_Akaashi, it’s your demon!_

Akaashi leapt to his feet and nearly ran to the balcony, where indeed, Bokuto was collapsed in a huddled mass, unmindful of the light drizzle that was falling.

_He looks in a bad way, Akaashi._

“I can see that.” Bokuto didn’t stir even when Akaashi shook his shoulder gently. Biting his lip, trying to get his building panic at bay, he grabbed him under the arms and dragged him inside out of the rain. Bokuto groaned softly when he dropped him in the middle of the floor.

Saeko flitted to his shoulder.  _Should I get help? He’s bleeding everywhere._

“You know we can’t do that.” There were ragged holes in his cloak, bloody feathers shedding everywhere, an entire trail left behind from the balcony to the room. “There’s an herb called red sweet. Do you know the one?”

_It’s poison._

“Not to demons. It grows near the river. It will help.”

_I’m on it! You can count on me._

She took off and disappeared into the dim light of the evening. Akaashi crouched down by Bokuto and carefully removed the cloak, trying to be as gentle as he could.

He prayed that it looked worse than it actually was; a difficult feat when he was faced with the torn shreds of Bokuto’s shirt and the stomach-turning state of his back. It was covered with gashes, small sharp stones embedded in several places, deep enough that he feared for the muscles beneath the skin.

Akaashi gently touched one, trying to see if it would remove easily and Bokuto finally woke.

“Akaashi?” he sounded confused, then all the air rushed out of him in a pained hiss. “Akaashi, that hurts—”

“It’ll hurt more if I leave it.” Akaashi touched the edges of where the largest was embedded and Bokuto flinched. “Please hold still, Bokuto,” he added, softer, moving his hands away.

“It _burns_ ,” he rasped out.

“I think there’s an anti-demon spell on them.” Akaashi stared at the faintly glowing edges of the stone chips buried in his skin, anxiety building. He wasn’t an accomplished healer, but it wasn’t like he could ask for help. “I can get them out, but you have to hold still.”

Bokuto groaned softly but muttered his assent. Taking a deep breath, Akaashi moved his hands back to the wound. The stone came free with a sharp tug, releasing a gush of blood. Akaashi dropped it and moved to the next, trying to block out the pained whine that Bokuto let out.

He moved as quickly as he dared, desperate to have the ordeal over with, for his own sake as well as Bokuto’s. Once the last piece was removed, he said the words for the strongest healing spell he knew, hands gently pressed against his back. The gashes closed up slowly, leaving faint white scars and the bloodstains behind.

“All done,” he said, taking his hands away, tired in every sense of the word.

Bokuto sat up, sniffling, and threw his arms tightly around Akaashi. Akaashi held still for several moments before carefully bringing his arms up around his trembling frame. For all that he wasn’t that much taller than Akaashi, he was bigger. More solid, more present. His neck was getting wet with Bokuto’s still falling tears.

“You saved me,” he said, voice as shaky as he was.

“Of course,” Akaashi replied softly. What else could he have possibly done? “I’m sorry. If I hadn’t been so insistent you find Terushima you wouldn’t have gotten hurt.”

“Terushima?” Bokuto shook his head, rubbing his face into Akaashi’s shoulder. “No, it was someone here. One of the other towers. I didn’t see who.”

Akaashi tensed. “They saw you?”

“Apparently,” he mumbled unhappily. “I flew away but not quick enough.”

“Bokuto, why did you fly  _here_? The chances that you’ll get caught—that we’ll both get caught—”

“I’m sorry, all right?” He tensed but didn’t let go, instead clinging tighter to him. “All I could think of was getting somewhere safe and the next thing I knew I was here.”

Despite his fears, something warm lit in the hollow of his chest. Akaashi closed his eyes, giving in to the desire to breathe in Bokuto’s scent.

“Which tower was it, Bokuto?”

“The north one.”

Nekoma tower.

A quiet knock came at the door.

Akaashi had a sinking suspicion of who it might be.

He patted Bokuto’s back. “You have to hide, Bokuto.”

The demon sniffed one last time and nodded, and he was a sudden feathery weight on his shoulder. Akaashi got to his feet and went to the door, opening it just a crack.

Kenma’s amber eyes stared back.

“Kenma,” Akaashi said calmly. “What brings you here?”

“I think you know.”

“If I knew, I wouldn’t ask.”

“I think we all know,” Kuroo said, leaning his head into view with a tense smile. “So? Where’s the demon?”

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!


	7. Sunglow

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please check out this [ lovely fanart !!](http://thesefuckingfandoms.tumblr.com/post/142722336468/he-awoke-warm-and-aching-to-the-familiar-sound)

“Demon.” His heart was beating so fast that frankly he was surprised it didn’t go flying from his chest altogether. “I don’t know what you two are talking about, but if that’s all—”

Kuroo caught the door before Akaashi could close it on them.

“Not so fast. Let us inside.”

“I’m not inclined at present—”

“Cut the bullshit.” Kuroo shoved and Akaashi went stumbling back as the door was wrenched from his grip. Bokuto screeched in his ear as he fought to keep his feet. Kenma and Kuroo stepped inside, shutting the door quickly behind them.

Kenma’s eyes went right to the pile of bloodied stones, and the trail of feathers and blood left behind on the floor. Akaashi felt on the verge of passing out, his breath coming short and quick, palms sweaty. There were spells gathering the back of his mind—spells that would hurt them if he called the magic into being.

Akaashi took a shaky but calming breath. This didn’t need to come to violence.

This wouldn’t come to violence. He would make it so.

“I told you I hit them, Kuroo.”

“I never doubted you.”

“So where are they?”

“I don’t know who or what you’re talking about, Kuroo,” Akaashi said, proud that his voice held steady. Bokuto’s talons were digging painfully into his shoulder, but the pain was grounding. Kuroo’s mouth tightened into a flat line, dark eyes flicking to the owl.

“It’s that thing, isn’t it?” he breathed. “Kenma—”

There was already a burst of light coming from Kenma’s hands. Akaashi threw up a hand, spitting out the words that built an invisible wall between him and the other two. The wall rose, barely in time, and Kenma’s spell dissipated against it like smoke.

“Akaashi,” Kenma said lowly, “we’re just trying to help you.”

“Really? Because so far you’ve broken your way into my room and tried to attack me. If that’s your version of help, I think I’m fine how I am without it, thanks.”

“The demon has twisted your mind. We understand that. Once the thing is dead, you’ll be free.”

Bokuto shuffled nervously on his shoulder.

_What now, Akaashi?_

Akaashi took another breath. “He has done no such thing. He’s under a contract to serve me. Isn’t that right, Bokuto?”

He felt the weight lift off of his shoulder and Bokuto was abruptly there, in his humanoid form, feathery cloak fanned out behind him like his wings so often did, arms folded across his broad chest.

“That’s right,” he said, almost boastful.

To their credit, Kenma and Kuroo didn’t quite stare, but neither did they manage to keep their mouths from dropping open.

“I told you,” Kenma said flatly to Kuroo.

“Akaashi, come away from the demon. We can take him down together.”

“That won’t be happening,” Akaashi said at the same time Bokuto let out a booming laugh.

 “As if three humans could fight me on equal ground! Why, I could take on this whole school without breaking a sweat!”

“I seem to remembering hitting you with my anti-demon spell not so long ago,” Kenma said, amber eyes narrowed, calculating.

“Yeah, well. That was then.” Bokuto shrugged, unperturbed by the truth of his comment. “You could never hope to beat me straight on.”

Akaashi’s veins were pumping with adrenaline, and he felt the same rush he did on the dueling grounds. The same sharp edge of awareness, the one that made him feel truly alive each time.

“We’re not going to let you have him without a fight,” Kuroo said, a dangerous, glinting smile on his face.

“I don’t want to fight you, Kuroo. Or you, Kenma.” Even putting aside the fact that they were one of the strongest tag-teams in the school, they were his friends. Akaashi had no doubts he and Bokuto could take them down, but he didn’t want that. The ideal situation would be that they forgot this ever happened, but that was out of the question now. Kenma was too strong of a seer for memory spells to work on him, and Kuroo was Kuroo—the strongest nature witch the school had ever seen.

“It’s not you we plan to fight, Akaashi. Come away from that demon.”

“Did you alert the professors?”

“Of course not. They would expel you without bothering to listen to your side of the story.”

“Then will you listen?”

“Akaashi—”

“I know this looks…bad.” He had only a vague idea of what he and Bokuto’s relationship looked to an outsider. He was so accustomed to the demon that the threat of danger was a well-worn and muted companion. “But please hear me out.”

Saeko chose that moment to return, pelting through the open balcony window and spitting out plant matter on top of Bokuto’s head. While Kuroo stared at her bird form, Kenma stared at Akaashi, waiting.

“I don’t suppose you’ve met my familiar,” he said faintly. Saeko squawked very convincingly, landing on Bokuto’s head amidst the plants she had discarded.

“I’ll listen,” Kenma said finally.

“But if we don’t like what we hear, playtime is over,” Kuroo added.

Akaashi started from the beginning, and keeping numerous details to himself, such as his _feelings_ and the secret of the book, he told them about the relationship he held with Bokuto—how he helped him. Protected him.

He kept, too, the fact that Bokuto owned his soul at the end of this year a secret, but from the looks on their faces they weren’t fooled. Everyone had heard enough stories of demons to know the price they exacted from their victims in exchange for power.

“You’re an idiot,” Kenma stated bluntly, “for doing this.”

Akaashi had no response for him. Maybe he was, maybe he wasn’t. But there was no taking it back now.

“Was he the one who started the fire?” Kuroo asked, eyes still narrowed.

“That was a different demon.”

“You have more than  _one demon_ —”

“That’s not what I meant,” Akaashi said hurriedly. “Bokuto is the only one like that with me. It’s just a demon targeting the school.”

Akaashi only realized how that sounded after he spoke.  _Just_  a demon, as if any normal human wouldn’t be terrified out of their minds at even the thought of a demon being in that close of proximity to them.

Clearly he was losing touch.

“I’m handling it,” Bokuto added, the first time he had spoken since Akaashi started his story. The other two flinched slightly, turning their gazes to him. Bokuto shifted beneath their appraisal, reaching up and chewing on the flowers of the red sweet Saeko had brought. Saeko herself seemed content to roost in his hair, ever watchful.

“You’re entrusting him with all our safety? A demon?” Kuroo seemed unconvinced still and Kenma was unreadable.

“There’s no one I’d trust more to keep us safe,” Akaashi said.

“You know what, this is insane. And if I didn’t know better, I’d say _you_ were insane, Akaashi.”

_You don’t know me. You don’t know the first thing about me_. Akaashi bit back those words and instead smiled up at Kuroo.

“I’ve been called worse than crazy, by people who actually meant it.”

“Oh, believe me, I mean it.”

“If you tell—”

“No one is telling anything,” Kenma said shortly. Kuroo subsided a bit, bristling to himself. Visions flashed in front of Akaashi’s eyes; the many-eyed shadow beast, looming even larger and protectively around Kenma. Smaller shadows twined with feline grace around Kuroo, lending him an aristocratic air.

“No one will tell,” Kenma repeated, softer, “but if I suspect anything strange going on, I will not hesitate to bring you down, Bokuto.”

The demon grinned at him, teeth stained red by the flowers. Whatever sharp comebacks he was thinking of—and from the snapping brightness of his eyes, he was thinking of them—he thankfully kept to himself after a glance towards Akaashi.

“That won’t be necessary.” Akaashi felt so unbelievably tired. How could one conversation drain him so completely? “He protects me, and by extension, he protects the school. Bokuto is not our enemy.”

“For how long?” Kuroo spared a pointed look to the bracelets they both wore and their single black stones.

“Long enough.” Akaashi shifted, putting himself slightly more in front of Bokuto and not bothering to hide his glare. Kuroo bared his teeth but didn’t say anything else. “I think it’s time for you to go.”

“Don’t have to tell me twice.” Kuroo slid out the door without a moment’s hesitation, but Kenma lingered just a minute longer.

“I won’t ask you why you lied about the bird,” Kenma said in a low voice, “but I suggest you take care of that situation sooner rather than later.”

Akaashi swallowed hard. Damn Nekoma and their sharp eyes. “I intend to.”

Kenma nodded, apparently satisfied, and followed Kuroo out of the room.

The moment they were gone, Akaashi gave in to his weak knees and collapsed into his desk chair. Bokuto was still chewing thoughtfully on the red sweet Saeko had brought.

“Huh,” he said eventually. “That went well.”

“Well is not the word I would use.”

“They’re not reporting us and you didn’t have to throw around all that nasty magic you were thinking about,” Bokuto retorted. “I’d say that all in all, job well done!”

“I was not—” But he had been thinking about it. Akaashi swallowed his protest. “How did you even know what I was thinking?”

“You get this look on your face—”

“I do not have a  _look._ ”

“See? See?” Bokuto hopped a few steps back from him, pointing wildly at him. “There it is, the look!”

Akaashi had to take a breath and steel himself from falling into any more fruitless banter with Bokuto. It was easy, even comfortable, that line of conversation, but there were more pressing matters at hand to deal with.

“How are you feeling?”

“Fit as a fiddle!” Bokuto lifted his arms and flexed in demonstration.

“Then it’s best if you go.”

A crack of thunder came from outside; it had begun raining significantly harder while they had been talking with Kenma and Kuroo. Bokuto wilted.

“But it’s raining,” he whined. “Can’t I just stay here for the night?”

Akaashi snapped.

“You’ve done enough damage for one night,” he spat out. Even Saeko jumped at the vicious tone, flapping over to the bedpost as she lost her perch. Bokuto’s face went blank, shoulders lifted protectively. He left without a word, cloak shifting fluidly into his enormous wings as he stepped out onto the balcony and then took off into the night.

_You’re a real charmer, kid_ , Saeko drawled out.

The way they had clung so tightly together after Bokuto’s accident was like a distant memory now. Akaashi stared down at his hands. Still bloody, just like the mess on his floor. With a sigh, he swept up the feathers with a whispered word to the air and tossed them into the fire.

He shouldn’t have snapped.

_But you did._

Bokuto would forgive him.

_You shouldn’t count on a demon’s forgiveness._

Akaashi picked up one of the stones, weighing it in his palm and inspecting the runes carved there. Kenma’s work was nothing if not meticulous and well thought out. He was tempted to drop them off from the balcony and be rid of the reminder of this night, but instead left them in a pile on the floor. Kenma might want them back.

The blood he would have to scrub away by hand. He knew no shortcuts for that.

Akaashi touched his bracelet, the final black stone.  _I’m sorry¸_  he thought _. For everything._

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“Bokuto Koutaro,” Kuroo announced, cornering Akaashi after breakfast, “is one of the highest ranked demons in the country.”

Akaashi looked at him for a long moment. There were shadows under his eyes but he seemed as alert as he usually was. His uniform was, as ever, rumpled, but it seemed more so today.

“I’m well aware, Kuroo.”

Bokuto was ranked in the top five out of all known demons. Little enough was known about him to most humans, other than his territory. But Akaashi knew almost everything there was to know about him. It wasn’t what Akaashi thought of as a privilege, but then again, he couldn’t think of another word for it.

“You’re playing with your life.”

Akaashi folded his arms with a sigh, turning his gaze to the passing students, making sure none were getting close enough to hear their conversation. “I know what I’m doing.”

“I doubt that,” Kuroo said.

“Kuroo Tetsurou,” a booming voice came from across the hall, “shoes are a required part of the student uniform. You have ten seconds to get out of my sight and get them before I report you to your tower head!”

He flinched and took off towards Nekoma tower—not before giving Akaashi a meaningful look that said this wasn’t over. Akaashi watched him disappear into the crowd, holding himself in a forcibly relaxed posture.

Kuroo wasn’t likely to drop the subject. Nor was Kenma. He should feel blessed that they weren’t reporting him and that they didn’t try to attack him or Bokuto last night, but he only felt faintly ill at the prospect of sharing his secret with them. If they knew, how many more would find out before the end? What exactly kind of end was coming for him? How many more suspected his dalliances with demonkind?

Oikawa, for one, which meant Iwaizumi as well. And it was likely the rest of Nekoma tower had suspicions of some sort—the ones who knew him from the dueling team, at least.

He began to wish he had skipped breakfast as it churned in his stomach.

_Focus_ , he told himself sternly as he walked briskly to class, winding his way through the throngs of harried first and seconds years, and the slower moving third years. Without his focus, he was nothing.

His classes went by in an anxious blur. Akaashi supposed he had taken notes but had no recollection of doing so. His thoughts were occupied with Bokuto. At lunch, Akaashi slipped away to the library and returned to working on the spell to free Saeko—so intently that he nearly missed the bell for classes starting up again.

By the time dueling practice came around, Akaashi was ready to snap again. It would be more suspicious if he begged off practice, so he went reluctantly to the field, running into Onaga along the way.

Onaga nervously inquired about his health, to which Akaashi supplied a bland response along with an equally bland and strained smile. He left it at that, at least.

 The others were not so easily convinced.

He must look as bad as he felt.

Washio chastised him, reminded him about his promise about not pulling all-nighters. Komi was more mothering, gentle with his prying words. Sarukui clapped a large hard on his shoulder, shaking him slightly. It was his words that reached him, more than the others.

“You don’t have to tell us, but we can tell you’re going through some shit. Just know that whatever happens, we’re a family, yeah? We’ve got your back.”

_Even if the shit I’m going through happens to deal with my demon contractee?_

But the reminder was a twisted sort of comfort. Comforting enough, at least, for him to focus on practice and do a better job as the team’s base than he had the previous practice. It was harder to hold back, as Oikawa had warned, now that his magic ran perpetually free in his veins, but it was a lesson in control.

With the end of practice came the knowledge that he would have to face Bokuto tonight.

He dawdled on the way back, going over plays with a nervous but determined Onaga, making small talk with the third years who lingered to offer their own input. By the time Akaashi had trudged up the stairs of the Fukurodani tower, the sun was long gone beneath the horizon.

He shut the door, studiously ignoring the clean floor where last night there had been blood. Demon blood. If he had been a more enterprising wizard, he would have saved some to try and wind his way out of the death that was sure to come at the end of their contract. Or at least to put Bokuto more fully under his control.

The thought made him feel sick. He touched his bracelet.

That was a path without honor—something that usually didn’t concern him, but it just…felt wrong.

There was no putting this off any longer.

Akaashi through open the door to the balcony, breathing in the faint tinge of salt from the far-off sea, the scent of the forest rising up in the air, the smell of the damp stones. Akaashi whispered his Name into the wind.

Bokuto appeared silently on the balcony, wings fanned wide and predatory eyes lidded. He did not speak, only watching. Waiting.

“How’s your back?” Akaashi ventured after a few moments. Bokuto was still watching him cautiously as though waiting for him to snap again. There was something defeated about his body language, lacking his usual energy.

“It doesn’t hurt. And the red sweet helped,” he added with a smile for Saeko over on the desk. She fluffed up her feathers in response.

“Good.” Akaashi hesitated, picking at his nails and dropping his gaze. He couldn’t bear to see that smile right now. “I’m sorry for snapping last night. You didn’t deserve that.”

Bokuto nudged his foot with his bare one, talon-like nails scraping over the leather of Akaashi’s shoe. “Don’t worry about it. I’m fine. We’re fine.” Akaashi looked up and his heart started beating faster at the sight of the gentle smile on Bokuto’s face, the gentler brightness of his golden eyes.

It was an effort to move away, but he managed, stepping around Bokuto and moving towards his desk.

“We have work to do,” he said without preamble.

Bokuto followed him closely, leaning over his shoulder to peer at the papers strewn about the surface of the desk. He whistled, low.

“Jeez, Akaashi, did you sleep at all?”

He had gotten a few hours, close to dawn.

“It doesn’t matter,” he said. “I still have some things to iron out and I would appreciate your input. You know more spells than I do, you’ve been around longer—I can’t do this without your help.”

Perhaps that was laying the praise on a bit too thick, but Akaashi figured he Bokuto for the emotional blow-up that Akaashi had unfairly directed at him. Sure enough, even though Akaashi wasn’t looking at him, he could feel the new lively energy coming off of Bokuto.

He laughed, the sound bright and unabashedly loud. It made Akaashi feel warm.

“I’ll help out all I can!”

“Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it. What else are friends for?”

Akaashi didn’t have the heart to correct him. They weren’t friends, they were business partners.

At least, that’s what they were supposed to be. He bit his lip. If he was going to get a handle of this relationship they had, he needed to stop lying to himself. And the word friend was the best approximation of what was between them, he thought.

“Thank you, all the same.”

Akaashi had laid most of the groundwork, so they pored over the spell for hours, hammering out the details, arguing back and forth over wording and symbols and all the nuances that went into a spell.

It was almost fun.

Saeko was uncharacteristically quiet, watching them intently, hopping to and fro on the desk and peering at the pages of notes Akaashi was creating. Surely she had to be anxious, not just to be returned to her body, but about if the spell would work at all.

 Akaashi didn’t ask. His confidence couldn’t stand to be shook right now, or everything would fall apart.

“This is as good as it gets,” Bokuto said with a final nod, tossing the papers away from him and sending them sliding across the surface of the desk. Akaashi sighed and gathered them back to him, the symbols swimming before his eyes as he looked them over. “Hey, stop that. There’s nothing we can do to make it better. All that’s left is to try it out!”

“Tomorrow,” Akaashi added when Saeko perked up. He needed to be at his best for this, and right now he was decidedly not. “We’ll do it tomorrow.”

_Yeah, okay_. She cocked her head towards the window and then took off in a rush.  _I’ll leave you two nerds alone, I’ve got a brother to check up on._

“Don’t get caught staring!” Akaashi yelled after her, to which she only laughed.

“I like her,” Bokuto said with a laugh of his own.

“You’d like her brother too.”

“Yeah?” he turned his smile on Akaashi. Akaashi sucked in a breath and quickly turned his gaze back to the papers. He was too close. “Not as much as I like you, I bet.”

Akaashi cleared his throat, unable to locate any words. But Bokuto was already moving on.

 “Anyway, I thought of this great idea, just now! I know you’re worried about Terushima coming back and making a mess of the school, so we should put an anti-demon ward up around it!”

Akaashi stared at him.

“There are anti-demon wards already.”

“Yeah, and a fat lot of good that did last time. No offense, but those professors of yours could stand to put a little more _oomph_ into their spells, if you know what I mean.”

Akaashi knew exactly what he meant. Something else troubled him though.

“So an anti-demon ward. Something stronger than what we already have. But that would stop you from—”

“—from getting in. But if I’m already in—”

“—then you just need to not leave,” Akaashi finished for him. Bokuto grinned.

“And with you needing to keep up the pretense of having an owl familiar, this works out just fine for now until we can track him down.”

“Will it really keep him out?”

“With the two of us behind the spell?” Bokuto snorted. “There’s no way he’s getting anywhere near this place.”

Having Bokuto stuck here with him would only slow down their investigation into the whereabouts of the book even more, but Akaashi couldn’t risk the lives of the other students. Even he wasn’t that selfish. It was a temporary arrangement, however inconvenient it was—both for the investigation and his traitorous, idiot heart.

Akaashi looked away from that bright smile, admittedly feeling more at ease. “How do you even know anti-demon magic anyway?”

“Live as long as I have, you learn a thing or two, Akaashi!” he laughed. Akaashi shot him a look and he sobered slightly. “I figured if I learned more about it, I’d be able to protect myself better.”

“Can you?”

He shrugged. “I guess. Anyway, there’s no such thing as knowing too much, right? It doesn’t hurt anything to know.”

Akaashi knew several professors who would disagree with him.

_Knowledge is power, and power is dangerous. Too much knowledge leads to danger._

“Akaashi?”

There was something close to concern on his face. Akaashi lifted a hand, covering his mouth out of reflex as he composed his expression back to neutrality.

“You’re right,” he said. “You’ll have to teach me. We’ve never gone over anti-demon magic before.”

 Bokuto smiled.

He went over it in his usual way, quickly with lots of backtracking as Akaashi asked guiding questions. Bokuto inserted lots of gestures to further explain himself, sometimes recounting small stories of his own experiences that weren’t quite necessary but that Akaashi found enlightening all the same.

As Bokuto scribbled out a rough plan of what he wanted to accomplish around the school, Akaashi realized there was one more question he had to ask.

“Bokuto,” Akaashi said carefully. The demon looked up with a smile, stopping his triumphant humming mid-tune, expectantly waiting. “How did Kenma manage to hurt you? You’re one of the most powerful demons around. Kenma’s strong, but he’s not that strong.”

The smile faded as quickly as it had appeared.

“Believe what you want about me, Akaashi, but I’m not out to hurt anybody.”

“Can’t you just answer my question?”

“I just did. He caught me off-guard and I didn’t want to hurt a student.”

“Even a student that’s being raised to hate you?”

“Especially that kind.” Bokuto looked down, strangely pensive. “I know we get a bad rep. I know most of us deserve it, me included. But I don’t want to go proving you humans right about everything, you know? I want to be better than that.”

“That’s very,” Akaashi said, slowly, “human of you.”

Bokuto shrugged, flicking his talons in an absent gesture. “We’re not so different when it comes down to it.”

“I know many who’d argue that point.”

“Would you?” Bokuto asked—serious, for once. Akaashi didn’t have to think it over to have his answer, but he still waited a few beats before responding.

“No,” he said. “No, I believe you.”

He remembered the screams, short-lived as they fell, he remembered the blood. He remembered the fire, the fear, the fetid stench of death.

He remembered a pair of golden eyes.

He remembered a strong pair of arms catching him before he could hit the ground, he remembered his body leaping out in front of him to catch the fiery blast of an angered wyvern. He remembered every laugh, every smile, every story.

Akaashi looked up, daring a brief touch to Bokuto’s wrist. “I believe you,” he repeated.

 Bokuto seemed flustered. By the touch or by his words, Akaashi couldn’t tell, but the red flush high on his cheeks was a dead giveaway.

“Ready to do this then, Akaashi?”

“Ready when you are.”

“You sure? Mess this bad boy up and there will be one helluva drain on your magic. Not to mention we’ll probably be noticed by your professors.”

“Don’t you trust me, Bokuto?”

“Of course.”

The way he didn’t hesitate at all had Akaashi’s cheeks burning with a blush of his own. How was he to survive constant close-quarters with him?

“Then trust that I know what I’m doing,” he said, hoping it was true. Bokuto grinned and clapped his hands together, getting to his feet and busting out onto the balcony. Akaashi followed, slower, mentally rehearsing his part of the magic they were about to attempt.

The ward, if it took, would cover the entirety of the school, including the far-reaching grounds. Akaashi had never attempted something on such a grand scale, but he had faith that Bokuto’s strength could carry the spell that far.

 Bokuto hopped lightly up on the balcony rail, spreading his arms wide and throwing his head back as he began to speak. The wind picked up around the two of them, whirling cold and close. Bokuto’s feather cloak blew back, exposing his bare arms and plastering his shirt to his broad chest.

His voice was hypnotic, the words spiraling and dancing from his lips like hundreds of delicate flower petals scattering in the wind. Akaashi came as close as he dared, listening to him work his magic with a sense of awe. With the way he acted, it was easy to forget just how strong he really was. But in moments like these, Bokuto was the only thing Akaashi was aware of. Overwhelmingly so, he filled Akaashi’s every sense.

He closed his eyes, Bokuto’s voice a soothing and familiar sound, making him feel weightless—and yet somehow more alive.

Bokuto’s words petered out briefly. Akaashi took a breath before joining in on the next few phrases, feeling his magic entwine with Bokuto’s as they chanted in unison. He didn’t realize he had edged closer to him until he felt the solid calf of Bokuto’s leg bumping against his shoulder.

He didn’t let it shake him, storing the feeling quickly away in a tiny box to be dealt with later. Much, much later.

The feel of their magic working as one was intoxicating. Exhilarating. Akaashi never wanted it to stop, but eventually all the words were said and the ward snapped safely into place, integrating itself seamlessly with the wards already placed around the school.

Bokuto cheered.

“Yeah! That’s the stuff!”

“Keep it down, Bokuto,” Akaashi said, unable to hold back a grin even as he shot a quick glance to the few surrounding windows. The silencing spell only held for the inside of their rooms. His smile slipped away as he saw the door to his neighbor’s balcony crack open.

Moving as fast as he could, Akaashi grabbed Bokuto and dragged him down from the rail, shoving him towards the door. They were unbalanced though, and Akaashi tumbled down on top of him as they fell together safely in the room.

Akaashi stared down at Bokuto’s startled expression, too petrified to move. The only time they had been so close was the hug the night before but that seemed tame to how their bodies were snugly fitted together, their breath mingling in the same space.

“Ow,” Bokuto muttered, lifting a head to his head. With that, the strange spell keeping them frozen was broken. The feel of the shifting muscles beneath him was too intimate for Akaashi to bear. He scrambled awkwardly backward, fumbling for the balcony door and closing it.

“Sorry,” he said, voice cracking on the single word. “There was—somebody was—”

He took a breath. He needed to calm down.

“’s’okay, Akaashi.” Bokuto slowly sat up, still rubbing at the back of his head, not quite meeting his gaze. Was that another blush?

No. It was Akaashi’s clearly  _addled brain_  at work. Akaashi closed his eyes, counting his heartbeats until they slowed. Dawn was approaching. He needed to attend classes in a few scant hours.

“I’m going to bed,” he announced, knowing full-well he wouldn’t be getting any sleep.

“Where do I sleep?” Bokuto asked, eyeing the bed hopefully.

Akaashi sighed. “There’s enough space for both of us on the bed,” he said, reluctant, and Bokuto smiled gleefully. He got to his feet and clambered onto the bed, curling with a content sigh beneath his cloak. Akaashi averted his eyes, making quick work of changing into his pajamas and crawling beneath the covers.

Even though Bokuto was a respectable distance away, Akaashi couldn’t help but to be achingly aware of his warmth so close by. His scent enveloped him. Akaashi closed his eyes, determined to rest at least, if sleep was to be impossible.

“Whatcha thinking about, Akaashi?” Bokuto rolled over to face him, feathery cloak drawn up close to his face and golden eyes gleaming in the watery light of near-dawn.

What could he possibly tell him?  _If my soul must be eaten, I want it to be you?_  That was beyond twisted.

“Nothing, Bokuto. Go to sleep.”

“Nothing at all? You’re all tense.”

_You, you, always you._

“Nothing,” Akaashi lied, closing his eyes again.

Sometime later, he heard the demon whisper goodnight.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Akaashi only went to classes after officially swearing Bokuto not to leave the four walls of his room until he got back. Even so, at the end of the day, he found himself rushing back, taking stairs two at a time and arriving, panting for breath, at his door.

He placed his palm against it briefly, in a vain attempt to calm himself before pushing inside.

“Hey, hey, Akaashi!” Bokuto called out before Akaashi could close the door behind him. He did so quickly, hoping no one had heard. “Have you read this one yet?” Bokuto asked, drumming his feet on Akaashi’s desk chair—he was perched comfortably in the center of the desk.

Akaashi sighed, running a hand through his hair, glancing at the cover. “I have.”

“It’s pretty good, for human stuff!”

“I didn’t know demons had books.”

“Well sure we do, Akaashi.” He shot Akaashi a strange look, setting the book aside and hopping down from the desk. “What do we do now? Are you ready?”

“Give me a moment to breathe.”

_You can breathe after you get me my body back, kid,_  Saeko said irritably.  _How long do you think you can make me wait?_

“I’m not making you—” But he was, in a way. “Just—a moment. Give me a moment.”

He sat down in the vacated chair, ignoring Saeko when she flapped over to his shoulder and snapped her beak dangerously close to his face.

_You promised. Today, you promised._

“And I mean to fulfill that promise.” Akaashi rubbed at his eyes. He thought he would feel less stressed, seeing Bokuto safely still in his room and not running wild across the grounds, but if anything he felt worse. Though he had intended to ignore it, he glanced towards the bed. The blankets were still rumpled from his few hours of restless sleep.

Restless sleep next to Bokuto.

Ubidden, the images rose to him mind, of Bokuto sleeping peacefully beside him, face completely relaxed and open to Akaashi’s observation. His wild hair, even more mussed from sleep, his soft snoring. Akaashi had woken several times finding himself gravitating towards Bokuto and had to forced himself to roll back to his own designated side of the bed.

Akaashi shoved the images away. He didn’t need this. Not now, not ever.

He opened his schoolbag, carefully placing the sheets of notes he would need to carry out this spell inside and zipping it back up. It was showtime.

They made the trek, Saeko flying above and Bokuto riding his shoulder in owl form to the furthest reaches of the grounds, near the border of the new ward they had created.

“Bokuto, if you would.”

Bokuto flew from his shoulder, transforming in mid-air, and shot Akaashi a smile before lifting a ward around them that would keep their spellwork hidden from prying eyes. The words were warm, like a whispered secret between two friends in the dark.

Akaashi pulled out his notes, going over the incantation one more time.

_Tell it to me straight, kid, what are my chances?_

Referring to, of course, her chances of surviving this spell. Akaashi thought if over for a long moment, debating between a lie and the truth.

“Fifty-fifty,” he eventually said, looking away from her. “I hope you’re a gambling woman.”

_Wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t._ She laughed, but it sound forced. He couldn’t begin to imagine how she was feeling. First trapped inside a watchglass for a hundred years, then trapped inside a crow by some upstart kid.

“Me neither.” He offered up a smile and said, with more confidence than he really felt, “This will work.”

_Yeah. Let’s do it._

“Saeko, you never did say why you were in the witch’s cave.”

_Does it matter?_

“You won’t remember a thing about me, if this works right. I just thought I’d ask.”

His work done, Bokuto sat down beside Akaashi, watching Saeko too. Their knees bumped and Akaashi shivered.

She gave an avian shrug.  _Chasing a dream. Ever heard about a special book? One that tells the origins of magic?_

Akaashi sucked in a breath.

“Yes,” was his stiff reply. Saeko groaned.

_You’re after it_ too?  _Look, a piece of advice, Akaashi. Give up now._

“I’m afraid that’s not possible.”

“Yeah!” Bokuto said. “We’re invested, you know?”

Saeko stared at the two of them for a moment, head cocked.  _Then I’ll tell you what I learned. You’ll never find it with that watchglass, but I’ll bet you anything that it’s part of the puzzle._

“How do you—”

_Just trust me on this. Look, are we doing this or not?_

Akaashi nodded, subsiding. He slid the papers back into his bag.

With one last breath, he began.

It was the most complicated magic he had ever dared to attempt, even more so than the anti-demon spell he had helped Bokuto create. This was a spell that would undo the effects of Saeko’s original misstep, to bring her back to her original, corporeal form. And, at the same time, it would clear her memory completely of Akaashi and Bokuto.

Two for one, Bokuto had called it. It had made Akaashi laugh at the time, but now he was feeling the steady drain on his magic and could truly comprehend how very serious this was.

At first the words fell lightly from his tongue, drifting down, down, like feathers; then they became heavier as he kept speaking, like they had been soaked in river water. Each syllable was a concerted effort to get out. He could feel the sweat slide down his neck, feel his hands shake where he pressed them to the ground. Where Saeko’s body would hopefully appear.

Bokuto took his hand, silently offering support.

The flood of his magic was as invigorating as ever, burning, burning. Less shaky, Akaashi continued onward. Now the words crackled on his tongue, ready to catch fire and spark in the air. Slowly, something human-shaped was becoming visible before them.

Bokuto finally joined in, his voice melding with Akaashi’s, rough yet light. The figure became more solid—short blonde hair, pale skin. The crow housing Saeko’s spirit cawed a few times, almost sounding afraid. Was she still in there? Or had she transferred to a kind of limbo by the spell?

The words kept coming, louder now. Akaashi closed his eyes so he wouldn’t lose focus, gripping Bokuto’s hand tight in his. He felt as though he was part of the earth, part of the air, calling her back, back, back to life. The final sentence was nearly a shout, a battle cry.

And like that, it was finished.

Breathless, Akaashi opened his eyes, wincing at the light. Bokuto squeezed his hand one last time before shifting into his owl form and settling on his shoulder. The crow sat there beside the body, stunned.

_Did it work? Is she alive?_

“I don’t know.” His voice was hoarse. He cleared it a few times before reaching out and searching her neck for a pulse.  _There._ Her heart was pumping steady, very much alive. “Yes,” he whispered, unbelievably relieved. “She’s alive.”

Saeko—the real, human Saeko—opened her eyes.

It wasn’t long before a frown crossed her face, one hand coming up and rubbing at her forehead. She spotted Akaashi, Bokuto in his owl form and the crow that had yet to fly away.

“What the fuck,” she croaked out.

“Do you know where you are?” Akaashi asked carefully. It was strange to see her as a human, but it was easy to see the Tanaka family resemblance.

“Look, kid, last time I was human was a hundred years ago. Give me sec’, would ya?” She sat up slowly with a soft groan of pain, squinting around her. Akaashi was trying not to hold his breath, wondering what she would remember. “Who the hell are you, anyway?”

Akaashi relaxed, loosening the tight grip he’d had on his uniform pants. “Akaashi Keiji. I’m a student at the magic school, not far from here. What did you mean, you haven’t been human in a hundred years?” The lie fell easily from his lips. He surreptitiously shifted, checking that all the papers were safely stored in his bag and not loose on the ground.

“Magic school?” she looked more alert, dark eyes sharp on him. “Would you happen to know my brother? Tanaka Ryuunosuke? He’s Karasuno Tower—”

“I know him. Are you—?”

“—his big sister.” Saeko grinned, looking relieved. “Saeko’s the name. Gods but it’s good to be back! Am I ever glad you found me, kid.”

_You have no idea_ , Akaashi almost said. Instead he offered up a faint smile and gave her a hand in getting to her feet. She was unsteady and had to hold onto him while she oriented herself and caught her balance. All that time as a crow probably hadn’t helped much with her transition back to a physical form.

_We did it!_  Bokuto cheered with a soft hoot in his ear.

“Two familiars seems a little like overkill, don’t you think?” Saeko said as they started walking.

“Two…” Akaashi glanced up and saw the crow Saeko had inhabited following him through the canopy of trees. “Ah. Bo is my familiar,” he gestured to Bokuto on his shoulder. “The other is just…a friend.”

“What were you doing this far out in the woods anyway? Not that I’m not grateful you found me,” she said, twisting her head as she looked around her, “but we’re pretty far from the school, aren’t we?”

“You seem to know a lot about the school,” Akaashi politely deflected.

“I was in Karasuno! Is that where you are?”

“Fukurodani, actually.”

“Ah. I figured with the crow that maybe—but whatever. Don’t think I didn’t notice you avoiding my question.”

Akaashi smiled. Politely, ever so politely. “Procrastinating,” he admitted. “If I had to read one more page of my textbooks, I was going to lose it, so I went walking.”

Saeko laughed and thankfully left it at that. She stumbled a few times on the uneven ground, but smacked Akaashi’s arm away when he offered it as they walked. It made him smile, relieved that she was doing so well.

“If I may ask…”

“How I ended up in the middle of nowhere? Beats me, kid. One minute I was in a witch’s trap, the next,  _bam._  Here I am.” Saeko rubbed at her head. “I figure the professors can sort it out, if anyone can.”

Ah yes. The part that Akaashi was dreading.

The closer they got to the school, the more students they passed. Some shot them curious looks, but let them go by unquestioned. Akaashi held his breath, hoping they wouldn’t run into Tanaka on the way.

“Hold it right there, Akaashi!”

_Shit._

Oikawa’s eyes were sharp on him and Saeko. “Who’s your friend?”

“I found her in the woods, unconscious,” Akaashi said. Smoothly. Calmly. He did not quail under his gaze nor flinch from Iwaizumi’s accompanying frown. “I thought I should bring her to the medical wing.”

“Could be dangerous,” Iwaizumi said, looking her over.

“Doesn’t she remind of that Tanaka kid though?” Oikawa said to him, not bothering with an undertone. Saeko rolled her eyes.

“That’s ‘cause he’s my brother. So if you don’t mind?” She made a shooing gesture. “My head’s killing me.”

She took off at a brisk pace, leaving Oikawa and Iwaizumi to stare, and Akaashi to hurry after her. The crow still circled above him and Bokuto still rode his shoulder comfortably, as if he was meant to be there.

_Close call,_  Bokuto said, obviously grateful to have escaped the pair.

Akaashi glanced towards Saeko and nodded surreptitiously.

Professors Ukai and Takeda were lingering in the entrance. Akaashi heaved a sigh of relief. If any of the professors would let him off lightly, it was those two.

“Sirs!” he called out, waving them over.

“What is it?” Ukai’s eyes were primarily focused on Saeko, frowning. “Who is this?”

“I found her unconscious in the woods. She says she’s Tanaka’s sister and that she doesn’t remember how she got here.”

“That true?”

“True as true can be.” She put her hands on her hips, cocking her head to the side in a way that was eerily similar to when she had been a crow. “Can I see a medic now? My head hurts like you wouldn’t believe.”

“Of course,” Takeda said soothingly, ushering her away. Ukai remained, fixing his frown on Akaashi and his owl companion.

“She reeks of demon,” he said shortly. “You see anything, kid?”

“Nothing,” Akaashi lied, faking a worried tone. “Will she be all right?”

“Depends on what you did. I can see your magic all over her, too.”

_Shit, shit._

“It was just a healing spell.” He ducked his head, fiddling with his fingers. He didn’t have to fake his nerves, just show them a little. “She seemed banged up pretty bad, so…I thought I should help…”

“Without supervision, it was a real dumb idea, kid. Healing spells are a tricky matter.” Ukai clapped a hand to his shoulder. “Don’t worry so much. Your heart’s in the right place, that much is clear. Go on now.”

Akaashi nodded and skittered away, a bubble of relieved and hysterical laughter caught in his chest.

They had done it.

They had done it and gotten away with it.

 Saeko was safe, _he_ was safe. Now they could focus on getting rid of Terushima and then, finally, get back to their search for the book.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 When they got back to his room, Bokuto launched himself from his shoulder and transformed back, spinning around the dragging Akaashi into a hug with a loud whoop.

“I can’t believe we pulled that off! We’re _the best!_ ”

Akaashi could only laugh.

A soft tapping came from the balcony. They both turned, Bokuto’s arms still casually wrapped around him, and saw the crow. It tapped one more time on the glass door before flapping up to the balcony railing, seeming to stare at them expectantly.

“You should go see what she wants.”

“I don’t speak crow.”

Akaashi went anyway.

“I’m sorry for putting you through all this,” Akaashi said to the crow. It tilted its head at him as if it could understand. “You can go back now, to your family.”

It cawed at him a few times, shuffling along the balcony rail, wings spread for balance. Akaashi half expected it to peck at him as it got closer—payback for using it so callously as a house for another spirit—but it just cawed again, as if trying to speak to him.

“I’m sorry,” he said again.

Those beady black eyes stared into him for several moments before the bird cawed a few times.

 “Jeez, d’ya hear that, Akaashi? I feel bad, don’t you?”

“I told you, I don’t speak crow,” he said, slightly aggravated. Bokuto came out beside him, offering his arm to the bird. It stepped obligingly on.

“She says she can’t find her family anywhere.” Bokuto’s expression was regretful as he stroked the smooth black feathers of the bird’s back. “And we’re the only ones she knows in the area, so she came back.”

It was their fault she had lost her family. They both knew it.

Akaashi offered his arm to the bird and she hopped on obediently, fluffing up under his scrutiny.

“You’re welcome to stay, if that’s what you want,” he said.

She cawed, once.

“She says she’ll stay. She says you’re,” Bokuto paused, attempting to smother a laugh with little success. “She says you’re just a fledgling and need all the help you can get.”

Akaashi’s lips quirked in a small smile. She wasn’t entirely wrong.

“I’d welcome your help, friend,” he told her seriously and her head bobbed like she was nodding.

They all laughed. For a time, everything was right with the world.

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!


	8. Saffron

_“—and I can’t believe I’m saying this folks, but—Karasuno wins!”_

Everyone except those in the Seijou stands were on their feet, the crowd roaring with deafening cheers. An overthrow like this hadn’t been seen in years. Seijou was—or rather, had been the reigning king of the dueling teams since last year.

Akaashi was on his feet with the rest of them, applauding, but his mind was already on his own upcoming match. Washio hooked arms with him, jerking his chin towards Onaga; Akaashi grabbed hold and they fought their way out of the stands and down to their locker room where they would wait for the grounds to be cleared.

It was a surprisingly short trek, with his mind occupied with the game. Onaga looked ready to vomit.

“You’ll do just fine,” Akaashi assured him.

“Yeah, you’re a natural at this, don’t worry,” Konoha said, smacking him none too gently on the back. Onaga stumbled and muttered something no one could hear, struggling with his traditional dueling robes until Sarukui took pity on him and bustled over.

“I threw up before my first game too,” he admitted in an undertone as he adjusted the robes for him, “but if you’re gonna, better to do it now than on the field.”

If anything, Onaga looked more queasy than before.

On his shoulder, Bokuto shuffled back and forth, until Akaashi reached over and smoothed his feathers in an attempt to calm him down. He did it without thinking, without realizing that even if he was an owl right now, he certainly wouldn’t be later.

Akaashi quickly pulled his hand away, shooing Bokuto off of him so he could change.

“What is that damn bird doing in here anyway?”

“His name is Bo,” Akaashi corrected. He opened his mouth to explain, realized he didn’t have an explanation other than _my friend the_ demon _didn’t want to stay in my room_ and closed his jaw with a snap. Komi sighed, making a placating gesture.

“Settle down, kids. We’ve got a big game ahead of us.”

“Nekoma’s tough,” Konoha said, not that any of them needed the reminder. Both teams practiced with each other often enough that they knew their play style inside and out. It would come down to a combination of luck and skill, today. Anything could happen.

Akaashi was brimming with energy. He was ready. He had been ready for this for days. He lived for the official matches, the feel of the crowd, the feeling he got when he stood on the grounds.

“You boys all changed?” Kumiko asked, already walking in regardless, her head buried in her notebook. “Good. I’ve got good news and bad news.”

“Bad news?” Onaga said nervously.

“Bad news first,” she said briskly. “Nekoma’s a tough team to beat.”

“And the good news?” Sarukui pressed. She closed her notebook with a snap, grinning at them all widely.

“We’re tough too. Better yet, we’ve beat ‘em before. We can do it again.” She held out her hand. They all laid their hands on top, ready for the game ahead. “Knock ‘em silly, boys.”

“Fukurodani, fight!”

“Kumiko,” Akaashi said quickly, before she could vanish onto the sidelines. “Will you keep Bo with you?”

She shot a strange look between him and the owl, but nodded. “Sure. Now go on and get out there, little ace.”

He flushed at hearing the familiar nickname coming from her and ran to catch up to the team.

Akaashi barely heard the announcer, barely heard the cheering of the  immense crowd as he stood waiting on the field, hands folded tight behind his back. He thrummed with energy, with the thrill of the swiftly approaching fight. His only had eyes for the referee, even though he could feel the gazes of the Nekoma team upon him.

 _You’re in for a nasty surprise if you only focus on me,_ he thought with a grim kind of glee.

“I want a good, clean game, boys!” the referee said, standing at the center of the field.

They bowed.

The game began.

Nekoma attacked first, sending a great wave of fire their way. It was mostly for show; distraction. Akaashi threw up an arm and swatted the spell aside with a contemptuous word. First point to Fukurodani. Behind him, Konoha threw back a ball of lightning, aiming for their newbie, Haiba Lev, only to be intercepted by their libero. The lightning came flying back their way and Washio took control of it with a shout, easily hitting it into the ground near Kuroo’s feet.

Second point, Fukurodani.

Onaga sent a blast of wintry wind flying but Kenma caught it, slamming it back too quickly to be stopped. Akaashi caught the brunt of it, letting it dissipate against a hastily created shield. Third point, Nekoma.

“Don’t mind, Onaga!” he called out, not bothering to look back. His eyes were on Kenma and the hunger in his amber gaze. A vision flashed into being—the many-eyed shadow beast, hulking aggressively over him. Akaashi blinked and it was gone, replaced by another. Something new.

The air was knocked out of him as Komi tackled him to the ground, narrowly avoiding getting burned by another burst of flame; Washio deflected it back towards Nekoma and the game continued as they both scrambled back to their feet.

“Keep your head in the game, little ace!”

“Sorry!”

He felt shaken, and not just from being tackled. But what he had seen would have to wait for him to process it.

“Akaashi, cover!”

He caught the icy gale between his hands, directed to the other team.

 _Head in the game, head in the game_ ,  he thought, grunting with the effort of blocking the next attack from Nekoma. Kuroo sent it right back without missing a single beat.

They won the first set and lost the second, leaving them tied.

Onaga was already exhausted by the time the third set started. Nekoma aimed for him, time and time again. They could only cover him so much, could only do so much with their own tired bodies. Nekoma was sloppier, obviously feeling the strain too but—

_“Nekoma wins!”_

 Akaashi stared at the scoreboard in disbelief. Two points difference. If he had moved a little faster, fought a little harder—been more familiar with how he could use his magic while still being under the protective shield of Oikawa’s spell—

But it was no use. They had lost. No amount of dwelling on it would change that fact.

They bowed.

The game was done.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“I’m sorry,” Onaga apologized stiffly once they were back in the safety of the locker room.

“It’s not your fault,” Akaashi said soothingly even though he could feel the despair deep in his gut. “This was nobody’s fault. Anything can happen during a game. Turns out luck wasn’t with us this time.” Onaga nodded, muttered a thanks and wiped at his face.

“Well,” Komi clapped his hands together, acting as though his own eyes weren’t as red as everyone else’s from frustrated tears. “It’s just the first game of the season. We’ll get them back.”

“That’s right. Come on now, everyone change. Time to go support our girls.”

The reminder of the girl’s team that would soon be entering the grounds was enough to get them all moving again, enough to bring back the spark of energy they had been missing since their defeat. The girls of Fukurodani were fierce. It was sure to be a close game and they needed to be there to cheer them on.

Still, Akaashi was scared. Devastated by their loss, of course, but more scared. He had seen the look in Kenma’s eyes, had felt the energy from their team as they stole the lead. He had seen the horrifying vision surrounding both Kenma and Kuroo.

The loss felt like an omen.

Akaashi changed quickly and followed his team back to the stands, collecting Bokuto from Kumiko as he passed by.

“He’s a sweet thing,” Kumiko said, smiling despite her watery eyes. “Bo, isn’t it?”

Akaashi swallowed, his throat suddenly dry. “Yes.”

“Well, anytime you need someone to watch him, I’m free.” She held up her arm and let Bokuto hop over to Akaashi’s. He nodded quickly and hurried after the others up into the stands, enduring the sympathetic pats on the back from the non-team Fukurodani students. They meant well—he knew they did. They were offering all the support they could, and he could appreciate that from a certain perspective, but it also rankled.

_I couldn’t win. I wasn’t good enough._

 Anything could happen during a game. Today, the worst had happened. That was all.

 Akaashi turned his attention to the field, stubbornly shoving his negative thoughts aside and focusing on the game below. It was fierce and intense even from a distance, and he knew from experience that as fast the game seemed to go from the stands, it went even faster when you were the one playing. Bokuto kept shuffling back and forth on his shoulder, feathers fluffing and giving off a soft hoot every once in a while.

_“—and if Fukurodani can pull this off, it’ll be match point—”_

_Match point._

His hands clenched together in his lap as he leaned forward. Around him the other students were too, cheering and shouting encouragement. Akaashi stayed quiet, watching intently as girls threw fire and wind and water back and forth, and back and forth.

Then it was over.

_“Fukurodani wins! An unbelievable match—”_

The announcer was drowned out by the rising voices all around Akaashi. His own voice joined them, yelling his joy.

“I know her!” Onaga bent close and yelled to him, but even then his voice was far away with the deafening cheers of the people around them. Akaashi’s own voice was starting to feel hoarse. “Kaori, I know her! She’s amazing!”

There was a flush high on his cheeks that Akaashi suspected was more than excitement over the game. He smiled, patting his back before taking up the cheer that passed over the stands.

 Their loss still stung, still hung heavy with a sense of foreboding, but this—this moment was good.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Akaashi lost his teammates in the crowd and ended up heading back to his room on his own, taking the stairs as fast as he dared with Bokuto still riding along. From the cheering coming behind him, the girls team was throwing quite the celebration with the other students.

It made him smile, but he had no intention of joining in. It was their moment to shine and he was still too upset over their own loss to do them any justice.

“That was—that was amazing, Akaashi! I’ve never seen anything like it before in my life!” Bokuto flopped back on the bed. “I had no idea you humans did stuff like this!”

“We had to fight to keep the clubs,” Akaashi admitted, setting down his bag and stretching with a groan. “The professors think it’s too violent. Too dangerous.”

“Well, yeah.” Bokuto sat up and shot him a loopy grin. “That’s what makes it fun.”

Akaashi couldn’t agree more, but kept that to himself.

A knock came at the door. Akaashi hastily made his way over, waiting until Bokuto transformed, with a tired sigh, into an owl again.

“Who is it?”

“Kenma.”

“And Kuroo.”

Akaashi closed his eyes and leaned his forehead against the wood of the door.

“No offense and all,” he said through the door, “but now’s not a good time.”

“It’s important.” Akaashi could hear some shuffling from outside. “Is Bokuto with you?”

“He is.” Akaashi couldn’t help flinching at the sound of Bokuto’s name falling from his lips so casually. Gritting his teeth, he opened the door. Kenma and Kuroo both looked harried as they stepped inside, their eyes both going to Bokuto immediately.

Bokuto transformed and lounged easily back against the pillows, pointedly ignoring the two new occupants of the room.

“Quite the game, wasn’t it?” Akaashi said lightly, hoping they weren’t here for anything serious.

“You were holding back,” Kuroo accused Akaashi without preamble. “During our game. You know how rude that is, to an opponent?”

“Excuse me?”

“The whole time, you were holding back,” Kenma said. “I was watching you. Maybe your teammates didn’t notice, but I did.”

Akaashi winced and looked away.

“I have to hold back.”

“Bullshit.”

“You don’t understand, I—” Akaashi stopped, sighed. There was little point in hiding it any longer, not from them. Not when they already knew so much. “Bokuto, if you would, please.”

Bokuto made a mutinous noise but threw up a blocking spell regardless that would keep anyone outside the room from sensing any magic work done within. Taking a deep breath, Akaashi reached inside himself for his magic, letting it all run loose and wild and bright and beautiful around him.

Kenma and Kuroo both staggered back.

Akaashi smiled. “I have to hold back,” he repeated.

“Where—when—”

“Bokuto has been teaching me.”

“Yeah, but that’s—that’s years’ worth of work, to get anywhere near that strong, Akaashi.”

He stayed silent, letting them draw their own conclusions. He let the magic fade away with a tinge of regret and Bokuto took down the blocking spell with a snap of his taloned fingers.

“The standard contract runs for seven years. Akaashi,” Kenma said, staring past him at Bokuto, “how long do you have left?”

Trust Kenma to see to the heart of the matter in mere seconds. Akaashi shook his head, clasping his hands behind his back.

“That’s none of your concern. Are we finished here?”

“Damn it, Akaashi, you’re our friend! That makes it our concern,” Kuroo snapped out between gritted teeth, glaring. “How long?”

_One year. One._

Not even long enough to graduate and get out of this place. He kept his face carefully blank.

“You should go,” he said quietly.

“Not until we get an answer.”

Akaashi wanted to scream. To cry. To throw a tantrum and get them to just leave. To use his magic to make them forget they had ever been here.

He could do none of those things, so he simply sighed, hands tightening until he could feel his nails digging into the soft skin of his palms.

“The contract is between me and Bokuto. Nobody else. I’m under no obligation to answer your question.”

“Do you have any idea—look, the demon I’m willing to forgive you for, but keep acting like this, you put our friendship on the line. Is that what you want?”

“Of course not.”

“Then answer the goddamned—“

 Kenma interrupted. “I see death around you.”

They all fell silent.

“Akaashi?” Bokuto asked, sounding equally confused and nervous. “What’s he talking about?”

“He’s a seer, like me,” Akaashi replied, trying to remain calm. “But it’s nothing.”

“Capital ‘d’, Death,” Kenma continued. “I can see the reaper’s blade at your throat, almost every time I look at you. Would you call that nothing?”

Akaashi bit his lip. Kenma stepped closer, amber eyes intent and worried. The new vision from the match did not really appear, but the afterimage was burned into his eyes. Blood dripped from Kenma’s eyes, and in his hands, the reaper’s blade. From Kuroo’s shoulders, a pair of demons’ wings sprouted, black and terrible.

 _It doesn’t mean anything,_ he tried to convince himself.

“How long do you have left, Akaashi? Three years? Four?”

He couldn’t bear to look at either of their faces, couldn’t bear remembering, so he looked past them to the unforgiving stone walls of his little room. He could lie. He could lie, and they would know he was lying, and Akaashi got the sense that if he told another lie he’d be cutting himself off from them in a permanent way.

He couldn’t bear that.

They had kept his secret so far. They would just have to keep this a secret too.

“One,” he grated out. With a cough to clear his throat, his lifted his arm, showing off the bracelet that hung from his wrist. The seven stones. “Just one.”

“Damn it, Akaashi,” Kuroo swore. He turned on his heel with violent force, turning his back to him. His shoulders hunched. “Damn you.”

Kenma seemed unmoved, like he had suspected all along. Akaashi could feel Bokuto’s eyes boring into his back.

He couldn’t deal with this. Not right now.

Not ever, likely.

“You should go,” he said again, weaker.

The door burst open and Washio stormed in, Konoha and Sarukui at his heels. Bokuto tumbled off the bed, transforming as he went. All three of them stopped mid-step when they saw that Kenma and Kuroo were there, paying no mind to the now disgruntled owl on the floor of the room.

“What’s going on here?” Konoha asked cautiously, taking in the scene before him; Kuroo, close to tears, Kenma nearly vibrating with tension, and Akaashi—he figured he must look as exhausted as he felt.

“Nothing. A little friendly post-game talk. They’re just leaving.”

Kuroo spun back around and jabbed a finger towards Akaashi. “This isn’t over. We’ll find a way to—we’ll find a way,” he cut himself off with a glance at the room’s new occupants. With a final glare towards Bokuto, he left. Kenma was slower to leave, touching his arm and murmuring in an undertone, “We can change this. The future isn’t set just yet.”

“What was that about?” asked Washio, stepping close and peering down at his face.

“A disagreement.” Akaashi scrubbed a hand through his hair, staring down at his feet. It was easier to look at than their curious, concerned faces. “But it’s nothing. Is something wrong?”

“Apparantly Onaga’s gone missing.”

“Missing?”

“We were going to do a post-game meeting, talk some things over. He seemed to take the loss pretty hard, you know?” As if the rest of them hadn’t. But you won some, you lost some. All they could do was keep working hard and keep improving. “But we can’t find him anywhere.”

Akaashi sighed. “Have you checked with Kaori?”

“Kaori?”

“The first year on the girl’s team.”

It took Washio a few moments to make the connection Akaashi was hinting at, but a wide smile spread across his face. Sarukui and Konoha both snickered.

“Young love, eh?”

“Please don’t embarrass him, guys, we need him on the team.”

He followed them out of the room, sighing when Bokuto flapped after them and took up his perch on Akaashi’s shoulder. Another day, maybe, he would have shaken him off and left him behind. Today, he was grateful for the company.

Akaashi touched his throat, trying not to imagine the cold touch of a steel blade balanced and ready to strike.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 It was late when they returned to Akaashi’s room. Akaashi felt drained but Bokuto seemed to have just as much energy as ever. He had to roll his shoulder to get him off of him.

“Get off, I’m going to bed, Bo. Bokuto,” he swiftly corrected himself. But the damage was done.

“You know,” he said thoughtfully once he had transformed back, “no one’s ever called me that before.”

“What, Bo?” It seemed embarrassing to say now, when he was in his humanoid form rather than an owl. He was more present, more real. “Not even your friends?”

“Demons don’t usually have much in the way of friends, Akaashi,” he said with a wry laugh. “But no, not even them.” For once, he was impossible to read.

“If it bothers you—”

“It doesn’t!” he said hurriedly, waving his hands. “It’s just, it’s different. I like it.”

“Well…good. That’s good. I think you’re stuck with it now.”

 “Fine with me,” he said, cheerful, trotting over to the balcony and flinging the door open, breathing in the cool night air. Akaashi watched his back for a moment, before shaking his head at himself and getting changed. By the time he had crawled under the covers, Bokuto wandered back over to him.

“You’re seriously going to bed already?”

“I’m tired. Yes.”

“Oh.” Bokuto scratched the back of his neck and waved the lights out with a twist of his wrist and a hiss of a word before climbing in beside him.

“You don’t have to go to bed with me,” Akaashi pointed out, cringing at the unavoidable intimacy of the statement.

“I don’t wanna keep you up.” Bokuto’s fingers brushed the side of his head, almost a caress. “Goodnight.”

Akaashi turned his back to him with a muttered ‘goodnight’.

He awoke the next morning, irritated by the sound of his alarm spell ringing inside his ears, pressed along the length of Bokuto’s back.

Akaashi froze in place, paralyzed with embarrassment. Bokuto was snoring softly, oblivious to his panic and their current position. Slowly, Akaashi moved away from him and out of bed, shivering when his feet hit the cool stone floor.

Bokuto made a quiet noise of distress in his sleep, rolling over, arms moving as though searching for something.

Or someone.

Akaashi grabbed his pillow and shoved it into his arms, biting back laughter when Bokuto hugged it close with a contented sigh.

He didn’t have the energy to process what any of that could mean. More than that, he was unwilling to process it. He couldn’t afford these feelings.

He scoffed at himself. As if feelings ever gave way to logic.

 _Later._ He would deal with it later.

Getting dressed for the day, Akaashi avoided looking at Bokuto’s sleeping form as much as possible, and he hurried down to breakfast.

 The rest of his team was in good spirits, eating heartily. Akaashi absently served himself, listening to their conversation, when a small cat-shaped note landed beside his hand. He glanced towards the Nekoma table, but neither Kuroo nor Kenma were looking his way.

**Meet me by the pegasi after classes tonight.**

Kuroo’s handwriting was easy to recognize.

Akaashi wasn’t hungry anymore, but he ate regardless, stealing some extra riceballs from the table to bring to Bokuto in the short time before classes started. Whatever Kuroo wanted, it couldn’t be good.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“Kenma’s not with you?” Akaashi asked as he got closer, even though it was obvious. Kuroo looked his way finally, even though he had surely noticed him picking his way across the grounds towards him a long time ago.

“Not tonight. And Bokuto?”

“I assumed if you wanted him here, you would have asked.”

“You’re starting a trend, you know. I’ve never heard so many students talking about getting themselves a familiar before.” Kuroo pushed off from the paddock fence as one of the pegasi came wandering over, offering his hand to it and clicking his tongue in greeting. “And here you are, with _two._ ”

Akaashi had nothing to say. ‘Bo’ had become increasingly popular among the Fukurodani students after Kumiko watched him during the match. Bokuto seemed to enjoy the attention, even as an owl, even with the danger of being caught.

“I just wanted to say, I still think you’re an idiot,” Kuroo said quietly, stroking the soft nose of the pegasus, “but you were just a kid when you contracted him. That makes things different.”

“I doubt the professors would see it that way.” In fact, it was hard even for Akaashi to see the difference. Kid or not, some things were just wrong. Some things were just not done.

Akaashi didn’t quite know what that said about him.

Kuroo shrugged. “Probably not. You’re one of their gifted children and they’d hate to see your reputation tarnished by something so awful as a demon.”

“Bokuto’s not awful.”

The words came automatically, before he could even think of stopping them. Kuroo shot him a sharp look, then nearly fell over as the pegasus nudged him for more attention. He snorted out a laugh and the tension passed.

“Yeah, whatever you say, Akaashi. A demon’s a demon.”

Akaashi reached out a careful hand for the beast to sniff. It whuffed over his hand and decided he was good enough because it nosed along his arm, looking for treats. Akaashi stroked the pegasus’ forehead with a smile. The animals were always calming to be around, but unless you were with Kuroo or another nature witch, they were rarely so docile.

“I’ll admit that he’s not what I expected.”

“He’s been good to me, Kuroo.”

“You understand why I find that hard to believe.”

“I’ll swear it on anything you like.”

Kuroo shook his head, looking over at him from across the pegasus’ head shoved between them. “Don’t bother.” Akaashi nodded, glancing towards the horizon. It was getting past time when he should be headed back. Bokuto would be getting restless, confined to his room as he was.

“He’s calling to you, isn’t he,” Kuroo said, barely a question.

“I’m the one who does the calling.”

“I only mean, it seems like you can hardly bear to be apart from him. Even putting aside the fact that he’s a demon, that’s not healthy.”

_“You shouldn’t wander off like that, you know,” Bokuto said with a laugh. Akaashi stared at the demon, uncertain. He had grown a few centimeters this summer, but he still towered above him._

_“I won’t get lost,” he pointed out needlessly. He knew these woods like an old friend. The demon crouched beside him, peering at the fallen bird’s nest Akaashi had found. The young fledglings within were mostly featherless still, peeping in distress._

_“Yeah, but I might.” Bokuto ruffled his hair. “I’m always lost without you, anyway.”_

_Akaashi jerked away. “What does that even mean, demon?”_

_He sighed, smiled. “Don’t you worry about it. Just stay within sight, next time. Let’s put them back up, shall we?”_

Akaashi couldn’t hide the flush that rose up his neck. “You and Kenma are the same.”

“Don’t,” he warned, sharp. Akaashi didn’t have it in him to be sorry despite the guilt that twinged in his chest. With a sigh, Akaashi gave the pegasus one last pet.

“I have to go back.”

“I’m sure he’s waiting for you.” Kuroo sounded bitter, hiding his face in the pegasus’ neck. “Be careful with him, won’t you?”

Akaashi touched Kuroo’s shoulder as he passed by. “You know me, Kuroo. I’m always careful.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“You were gone so _long_ ,” Bokuto complained. “This room is too small. If you would just let me—”

“No.”

“You let Saeko fly around as much as she wants!”

They hadn’t been able to decide on a new name for her, and her crow name had proven impossible to translate into anything manageable in human language. _The cold wind that sails over the mountain pass._ The crow fluffed up her feathers, proud. Bokuto glared at her and stuck out his tongue.

“Saeko isn’t a world-famous demon hiding out from every single human in this school,” Akaashi reasoned with him calmly. What Kuroo had said to him still troubled him. _It’s not healthy._ But he rarely felt more relaxed than when they were together. Perhaps it was just because they had been together for so long now. Six years. He touched his bracelet out of habit. “Until we can deal with Terushima—”

“Ugh, I know, I know.” Bokuto waved the thought away. “Just—get me some more books or something?” he pleaded. “If you have to be gone that much.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Ain’t no _sorry_ , Akaashi. I get it. Can’t have the humans finding about your big, bad demon pal.”

“They’d kill you if they knew, Bokuto.”

“They’d try.”

“They’d kill me, too.”

Bokuto was silent at hearing those words, pensive. Then a bright smile crossed his face, lighting up his golden eyes like sunbeams. “Don’t worry, whatever happens, I’ll keep you safe, Akaashi!”

“Bokuto,” Akaashi opened his mouth to explain how they would hunt them down like animals to all corners of the earth, but stopped himself when he saw the glow all around Bokuto, the pride. He smiled helplessly. “Thank you.”

 “Of course! You can always count on me.”

Akaashi turned from him, walking to his desk before realizing the movement had no purpose. Their progress on finding the book was stalled, and Bokuto had been unable to decipher the workings on the watch glass. Akaashi hadn’t the slightest idea of what came next, other than starting over fresh.

_Let me tell you a story._

He heaved a sigh, fiddled with the edges of his sleeves.

 “You didn’t find any more clues to the book while you were out, did you? Before we built the ward?”

 “I would have told you if I did!” he said, sounding a little hurt. Akaashi nodded.

“I was only double checking.”

_Let me tell you a story. Once upon a time, there was a world without magic. It was much the same as ours, and yet not the same at all._

Akaashi shook his head again, dislodging the voice of the woman who ran the orphanage back in his hometown. He knew the story by heart, every version of it. The ending was always more or less the same, whichever version you told.

_\--and they hid the book safe, where no human, demon, or Other could use it for ill cause, and disappeared from the world._

“Disappeared from the world,” Akaashi murmured aloud.

“What’s that?”

“The end of the story, it always tells it as the person who created magic disappearing from the world. But that doesn’t mean they died.”

“Well, no, I suppose not.” Bokuto shrugged as Akaashi started flipping through the well-worn book of tales he always kept at his desk. “But it’s just a fairytale, you know?”

“That book is no fairytale. I know it’s out there.”

“I only meant,” he paused briefly, struggling with his words. “The stories get things wrong all the time, yeah? Things get changed to make for a better telling.”

“What if they did something like Saeko?”

“Where they time traveled?”

“Maybe. I don’t know. Maybe they found a way to another dimension entirely.” As the creator of magic, their power was unfathomable. Surely such a thing would be possible, if it was them. Akaashi halted at the final illustration in the book. “So maybe they took the book with them, when they left. That would stop anyone from finding it, right?”

Bokuto hummed softly in response.

“And that kind of magic leaves a mark. Sure, it was hundreds, maybe thousands of years ago, but we’re talking about the biggest magical event in all of _history._ What if we’ve been going about this all wrong? We shouldn’t be looking for the book at all—we should be looking for that mark.”

Akaashi became aware that he was rambling and cut himself off. Bokuto was quiet for once, when Akaashi had expected him to be full of ideas at this new thought.

“What do you think, Bokuto?”

Silence.

Akaashi turned, ready to repeat the question—and ready to ask if he’d been listening at all—but drew up short at the sight that greeted him.

Bokuto was curled up on the bed, mouth slightly open and brows furrowed as he slept. His cloak was abandoned in a rumpled  pile draped messily over his legs and without the bulk of it near his face, without his talons showing, he looked…human.

Human and unbearably attractive.

Akaashi bit his lip as he approached on light feet. He stared down at him for several moments, then carefully drew the cloak up and settled it over him. Only even with the cloak, he wasn’t any less attractive to him. Akaashi bit down harder, tasting iron.

The book could wait another night.

Even though it wasn’t anywhere near the time he usually went to bed, Akaashi changed and curled up on the opposite of the bed, watching Bokuto until his eyes drooped close.

He felt at peace.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The peace did not last.

 Not that Akaashi ever expected it could.

Days passed before anything happened, days of him going through classes and dueling practice on autopilot, always rushing back to Bokuto at the end of the day. They talked his idea about the book over, planned for what they would do once it was safe to take down the ward keeping Bokuto trapped inside the school grounds. Akaashi still hadn’t abandoned the idea of using the watch glass, especially since Saeko—the real Saeko—had said it might be part of the puzzle, but he had been unable to figure out what to do with it.

“You could cross over without me,” he admitted grumpily, one time.

The thought had occurred to Akaashi before. He shook his head.

“We’re doing this together. I won’t go without you.” He didn’t mention that he didn’t have Bokuto’s tricks of traveling instantly, nor his wings, nor his intimate knowledge of the lands surrounding the school. He didn’t want to dampen the good spirits his comment brought—the brilliant smile Bokuto flashed his way.

Living in such close quarters was not much of an adjustment. Bokuto had never had much sense of personal space, and that hadn’t changed. The hardest part was providing enough food for him; he could only sneak so much away from the table at mealtimes without it being suspicious, even with his notorious status as the ‘bottomless pit’, as his friends liked to put it.

Bokuto never complained about that, for as much as he complained about the boredom.

He kept the time that Bokuto went out and about with him in owl form to a minimum. Akaashi was too afraid someone would notice something off about ‘Bo’—especially the professors. They already watched crow Saeko with strange attentiveness.

“Multiple familiars is not completely unprecedented,” his independent study mentor admitted to him when he came to check up on his progress, “but forgive me if I don’t see the purpose either of them have in correlation with your project, Akaashi. You’re trying to show the efficacy of air and wind-based spells when used in conjunction with light-based spells.”

“There’s a natural affinity between them,” Akaashi said blandly. “Used as supplements to each other, they can increase the power of the original spell threefold.”

“The familiars, Akaashi. That’s my concern. It’s not like you to follow a traditionalist’s path.”

Akaashi looked away, out his wall of windows. Bokuto snapped his beak at the professor when he made to touch him, and crow Saeko made a noise that sounded suspiciously like a laugh.

“I wanted to expand my research,” he lied. “To see if using a familiar can really enhance one’s magic or if they’re just a symbol of tradition.”

His professor had accepted the lie.

“Just be careful not to test anything out without me here,” he warned Akaashi. “Supplementing a spell can be dangerous work.”

Akaashi smiled, nodded as he promised not to do anything but work out the theory. Swallowed back the truth that he had been doing that very thing for years, under Bokuto’s supervision.

Everything always came back to him. To Bokuto.

If they had met when he was older, not during his formative years—

But even with their time limit looming, Akaashi didn’t really wish for that. And if they had met when he was older, he never would have tried to contract him. Akaashi would have been a normal student.

Maybe.

Would he really have been able to ignore his hunger for power, for knowledge? Or would he just have found another way to get what he most desired?

Bokuto had accused him of being a delinquent. Maybe he wasn’t too far off.

“What are you thinking about?”

A warm finger pressed against his forehead. Akaashi shifted back, opening his eyes. Bokuto pulled his hand away with a guilty smile.

“If you frown so much you’ll end up with wrinkles!”

“I’ll end up with them anyway.”

“So? What was it?”

“Nothing.”

Bokuto scoffed, flopping back down on the bed. It was early. Far too early to be awake on a day off, but here he was, awake. Akaashi was lingering mutinously in bed, trying to will his body back to sleep without success, and Bokuto had refused to get up without him.

Akaashi was almost glad of Bokuto’s restless irritation. The moment would have felt too intimate without it.

“I thought we promised not to lie to each other,” he finally said, nudging him with a sharp elbow.

_You should know better than to trust a liar’s promise. And I, a demon’s._

“I was thinking of the book.”

“Still? You’re awfully single-minded, Akaashi.”

“Yes,” Akaashi said. “But you already knew that.”

He laughed a little, snuggling down into the mattress.

“Is it the power that means so much to, or just knowing how it all came to be?”

“I don’t know. Truly.” Akaashi watched him, wondered how the scant inches between them could feel so much like forbidden and uncrossable territory to him. Bokuto didn’t seem troubled by it in the least. “Maybe both. Do you ever feel like you were born with a purpose?”

“Demons are made, not born.”

Akaashi was quiet as he processed that fact. No human really knew where demons came from, only that they existed. Bokuto made a small gesture.

“I know what you mean, anyway. So this is your purpose?

“Yes.”

For a time, they were silent but for the sounds of each other’s breathing.

“Didn’t take you for a believer in fate, Akaashi.”

“Don’t get me wrong, Bokuto. I’m a believer in facts.”

“Do tell!”

Akaashi held back a smile. “We met and I contracted you. That’s one fact. You’ve taught me magic. There are too many stories about the book for it not to be real. The book exists. And I,” he said, “will find it.”

Bokuto’s smile was wide and soft, somehow. “That’s some killer confidence you have.”

“I learned from the best.”

He laughed warmly, Akaashi joining in more softly. Bokuto tensed suddenly, smile fading away, lifting his head and staring out towards the balcony. Akaashi dared to touch his arm.

“What’s wrong?”

“Terushima. He’s come.”

“I thought—”

“He can’t cross the ward. But he’s waiting for me.”

Akaashi slowly sat up, even though the last thing he wanted was to leave the bed.

“Then let’s go meet him,” he said.

Bokuto flashed a smile once more.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The closer they got to Terushima, the stronger his sense of foreboding grew. What did he want from Bokuto? What did he hope to achieve by returning here? Akaashi stuck close to Bokuto’s side, walking slightly behind him to avoid being struck by his wings.

Bokuto was walking was a determination that was unusually grim. Akaashi couldn’t fathom what kind of thoughts might be passing through his head.

“Bokuto,” he asked quietly, “you’re certain you can handle him?”

“I’m the fifth strongest demon in the world!” he boasted, hands clenching and unclenching at his sides as he stalked onward. “There’s nothing I can’t handle!”

Well, at least he didn’t seem worried. Akaashi felt slightly calmer. Bokuto would risk himself, but never once during their contract did he put Akaashi in danger. He tried to warn him off of a lot of things, in fact, with only a middling of success.

 And there Terushima was. A tall demon with deep golden hair and tawny wings spread wide. He paced the edge of the ward.

As if in challenge, Bokuto spread his wings.

Akaashi felt a burst of pride at how much larger and more splendid Bokuto’s seemed.

“Well, well, if it isn’t little Bo-ku-to,” the demon said in a sing-song voice, dragging a talon along the edge of the ward and grinning at the resulting sparks. “Brought your slaver along too, I see. The whole family’s here!” He let out an uproarious laugh as if oblivious to Bokuto’s battle-ready stance and threateningly fanned wings.

“Terushima,” he said, tone warning and light. “Leave. This isn’t a fight you can win.”

“Fight? Win?” He tilted his head, still grinning. “I’m not interested in any of that.”

“Then what do you want?” Akaashi said tightly. Terushima’s eyes slid to him. They were a reptile’s eyes, cold and hungry. Akaashi suppressed a shiver.

“I’m not talking to you _, human_.” He practically spat out the last word, derision in every syllable. “Look, the way I see it, Bokuto, I’m doing you a favor.”

“A favor. Enlighten me.”

“If the human dies, your contract is null and void, isn’t that right?” Terushima shrugged. “So really, you should be thanking me, not playing around with anti-demon spells. We’re pals, aren’t we? Lemme in.”

Bokuto bristled, glancing back as if making sure Akaashi was still there. There was something strange glittering in his golden eyes. He whipped his head back around.

“The human dies,” he snarled, “and I lose out on his soul.”

Akaashi’s blood ran cold. Bokuto stepped closer to the edge of the border, hands lifted as though he meant to maul Terushima with his talons.

“Come near me and my prey again, Terushima, and I’ll rip out your throat.”

Terushima laughed harder.

“All right, all right! Who knew you could be such a hardass! But if you want him that badly, better keep a close eye,” Terushima leered at Akaashi. “I see him wander without an escort, I’ll maybe grab myself a little taste.”

This time it was Bokuto who laughed. There was no mirth in it and Akaashi couldn’t remember being this afraid since the first time he had contracted him.

“I so much as smell you in a 50 mile radius, Terushima, and your guts are mine.” He licked his lips, showing off sharp and pointed teeth.

Terushima’s smile faltered and a flicker of fear crossed his face.

“I knew you were a demon killer,” he spat out. “but I never took you for a human sympathizer.”

“Leave, now.”

“I’ll remember this.”

_“Leave.”_

Terushima’s lips pulled back but after another glare directed at Akaashi, he stepped back from the invisible barrier between them, tawny wings fanning out. He hissed out something Akaashi didn’t understand, words that burned against his ears—demon language. Bokuto answered with a primal snarl that made Akaashi flinch back.

But then Terushima pushed off from the ground, and was gone.

Long after he was merely a dark speck in the sky, they were silent, watching. Bokuto’s wings were still spread. Akaashi had to master the urge to reach out and touch the soft feathers for comfort.

 Finally Bokuto seemed to calm, folding his wings in and turning around with a lopsided half-smile.

“Well, that takes care of him.”

“Did you mean that?” Akaashi asked, his voice smaller than he liked. Bokuto blinked at him, obviously not following what he meant.

“Mean what?”

“What you said to Terushima—about me being prey.”

Bokuto’s mouth dropped open, eyes widening. “What? No! Well, I mean, maybe at first I was mad that some kid managed to contract me, but we’re friends now, right?”

Akaashi was too afraid to ask about the question of his soul.

Too afraid he knew the answer.

_What’s a little soul eating between friends, right?_

“What did he mean, when he called you a demon killer?”

Bokuto smiled, looking a little flustered. “It’s a pretty self-explanatory title, don’t you think?”

“Well, sure, but I was hoping for some clarification.”

He looked away from him, rubbing a hand through his wild hair. “Some other time, maybe,” he muttered. It was the first time he had actively avoided answering a question for Akaashi—he was usually more than eager to talk about himself and his exploits. Akaashi didn’t push for more.

But he would remember.

“Will he really stay away?”

“He’s as good as gone. Terushima’s a lot of things, but he’s not suicidal.”

“So you really would kill him,” Akaashi blurted out before he could censor himself, and Bokuto just stared at him for a long moment. No smile, no expression of any kind. Akaashi folded his arms over his chest. “I—I guess we don’t need that ward anymore.”

“Nope. We don’t.”

Bokuto snapped his fingers and Akaashi gasped as he felt the whole thing unravel all around him. He gave a short nod and turned, wings extending for flight.

“Wait!” Akaashi moved after him, grabbing the back of his shirt. As if such a flimsy hold could keep him there. Still, Bokuto waited, muscles tight and tense beneath his fingers. “Where are you going?”

“Home.”

“Home? But…” Akaashi bit his lip to stop himself from saying anything else. Slowly, he let go of his shirt. He had no good reason to keep Bokuto here. Only selfish ones.

Only foolish ones.

“Okay.”

Bokuto didn’t look at him before taking off, flying away in the same direction Terushima had vanished too. Akaashi’s mind whirled with all manner of paranoid thoughts. Terushima had reminded Bokuto that he was essentially bound in captivity until Akaashi either died or the year was up. Terushima had reminded him that Akaashi was merely human. That it was a demon’s place to hunt humans and devour their souls.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

When Akaashi finally made it back to his room, he was greeted loudly by his new crow friend. She very pointedly looked around—looked for Bokuto.

“He’s not with me. He went back home.”

Wherever home was. The Red Glades. Akaashi had never been there.

She cawed at him, flapping her wings agitatedly. He couldn’t speak crow—something he fully intended on taking up with Bokuto, since Kuroo wasn’t an option anymore—but he could still guess what she was saying.

“I know. I shouldn’t have let him go.” Akaashi swallowed hard, looking to the balcony where he so often appeared. It was empty, of course. Empty and dark. “I know.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Bad things happened in groups of three. Akaashi spent the next couple of days eyeing every shadow with suspicion and sleeping only in restless fits and bursts. He cleaned his room, cleaned it again, poured over the watch glass as though it might give him any answers. He was no closer to figuring out where the book was than before and the frustration of that was unbearable. His Seer classes were a special kind of torture where he avoided Kenma’s eyes from across the table as best he could.

He never did quite rid himself of the feeling of a blade at his throat.

Kenma’s vision was Bokuto’s doing. Which only made it Akaashi’s doing, which made him feel all the more terrible. If Bokuto killed him, he would only be fulfilling his nature, collecting on his end of the contract.

One year was, as he was coming to realize, not enough to accomplish all he wanted. Like Icarus, his wings of wax were starting to melt under the sun’s unrelenting burning.

He threw himself into his independent study with a bullheaded sense of needing to do _something, anything_. The monotony of his time was broken only by practices with his team and the long walks he took with his crow friend. She seemed happy for the company, which was more than he could say for his other friends; they all watched him with concern, whispered when he thought he couldn’t hear.

They couldn’t possibly know his secrets, but it still put him on edge.

“Where is he?”

He should have expected this. The ward, though meant to keep out Terushima alone, had been working on all demons. And a ward that size attracted attention, especially to those who were being kept out.

He should have expected it, but that didn’t make it any easier to deal with.

“You hear me, boy? Where. Is. He.”

The demon had pounced on him where he walked with crow Saeko near the edge of the woods, incapacitating him with ease. She was both beautiful and terrifying, and powerful beyond measure from the way she struck him once with both magic and hand and landed him on the ground on his back.

“Where’s who?” he choked out.

“Don’t play games. Bokuto of the Red Glades. Where is he?”

Akaashi stared up at her, desperately afraid. He had never been cut off from his magic like this before, never been without it. But with the strength of the demon’s magic holding him tight, he could hardly breathe, let alone form a spell.

“I don’t know,” he answered, stubborn.

The demon laughed a little, stepping harder on his chest until Akaashi wheezed for breath under the pressure of both her magic and her taloned foot pressing down. She tilted her head to the side, smiling wide.

“Don’t lie to me, boy. I smell Bokuto all over you. You’re his human, the one who managed to contract him.” She laughed again. “Don’t look so surprised. Word spreads fast among us demons. Now. Where is he?”

“He left,” Akaashi coughed out, praying she meant Bokuto no harm. “He said he was going home.”

She hummed low, obviously displeased with his answer from her narrowed eyes. Red, red eyes. One of her talons scraped across the delicate skin of his throat and he shuddered.

Then she stepped back, releasing him abruptly. Akaashi immediately reached for his magic, gathering it close to him and holding a number of offensive spells ready—not that he thought they would do him much good against her. Bokuto was strong, but this demon was beyond even his skills.

“Who are you?” he croaked out.

“After my Name?” She clicked her tongue. “You’ll have to be more clever than that to get it out of me.”

“I only meant—”

“Easy, little human. I’m not one for eating that which is marked by another.” She sighed, running her fingers through her red-brown hair, hanging loose and wild around her face. “Yukie of the High Grove. Remember it well, little human.”

Yukie turned her back to him.

“Why are you looking for him?”

“Curiosity I can forgive,” she said calmly, glancing back over her shoulder at him. Her red-streaked wings flared. “To a point. Don’t test me.”

Akaashi stared back, unwilling to be cowed even though his mind screamed at him to back down, to let her just leave as quickly as possible. The further she was away from him and the school, the better.

“He belongs to me, as much as I belong to him. I deserve a fair answer.”

“Oh-ho?”

Akaashi flinched at the familiar turn of phrase. She grinned.

“Pretending at bravery now, are we? That’s what I like about you humans. Very well. One good turn deserves another, as they say. He has something of mine.” She inspected the talons of her hands with a dark smile. “I mean to get it back.”

She took off from the ground with alarming strength, the resulting gust of wind knocking Akaashi back several steps.

Akaashi was tempted to call out for Bokuto. His true Name rested on the edge of his tongue, ready to be spoken to the chill autumn air. But he remembered the look in Bokuto’s eyes before he left, the things he had said.

_The human dies and I lose out on his soul._

_Come near me and my prey again and I’ll rip out your throat._

It wasn’t the air that made Akaashi shiver as he trekked slowly back to the school, his chest tight and sore. Crow Saeko flew in slow circles above his head, cawing occasionally.

When Oikawa appeared around the corner on Akaashi’s path back to Fukurodani tower, he nearly screamed. He did jump.

“I knew you were up to no good, Akaashi,” he said, voice cold and hard.

“Oikawa, I have no idea what you’re going on about. Please get out of my way.”

Oikawa raised a single brow, a chilling smile twitching onto his face. “But consorting with demons? Surely even _that_ is beneath you.”

Akaashi couldn’t breathe.

He couldn’t speak, he couldn’t breathe. He had no words of defense. Nothing.

“I can smell them, all over you. What did they promise you? Fame, fortune?” He stepped closer, looming, bloodied crown glimmering on his head. “Power?”

“Oikawa—”

“And you were foolish enough to believe them, weren’t you? You were so hungry for their promises you couldn’t see the poison that came with them. And what did you swear to them in exchange, hm? Your life? Your soul?”

“You’re wrong, Oikawa.”

“I saw you. I saw you with her. So don’t tell me I’m wrong.”

Akaashi was paralyzed with fear. All thoughts of throwing a spell at him to escape were distant and too slow-moving to be of any use.

 “You’re not the only one who goes for walks in the woods, little owl.” He glanced up towards crow Saeko and frowned before returning his sharp, dark eyes to Akaashi. “So which was it? Your life or your soul? What price did they manage to exact from you?”

“Even if what you’re saying is true, I would _never_ ,” Akaashi said lowly, “tell _you._ ”

Oikawa reached to grab him and crow Saeko swooped down with an angry noise, divebombing around his head until he backed off a few steps. She landed on Akaashi’s shoulder with a final, victorious caw.

“I could report you.”

“If you were going to, you would have already.”

He prayed,  oh how he prayed that was true.

Oikawa’s teeth bared in a parody of a smile. “I’m trying to help you. You may not see it—”

The doors to the school opened and a loud group of students went past, chattering until they noticed the standoff going on before them.

“O-Oikawa?” one of the girls said, almost nervous. “Is something going on?”

Just like that, he turned on a normal smile for her, all charm. “Just giving some advice! No need to worry yourself over _me,_ though I am flattered.”

Akaashi edged away inside, knowing that Oikawa wouldn’t dare put his reputation at stake for the likes of him. Not even if he had seen him ‘consorting with demons’.

Except that’s exactly what Akaashi was doing. Consorting.

He felt suddenly ill.

When Oikawa’s hand clamped down on his arm, he sucked in a breath that was nearly a yell. The crow pecked at his hand a few times, but Oikawa didn’t even flinch.

“You don’t know what kind of game you’re playing, Akaashi,” he said, speaking quickly. As though he, too, were afraid. Akaashi met his gaze evenly. “You have no fucking idea.”

“And you do?”

That shut him up fast enough. Something strange flickered across his face.

“Let go of me, Oikawa.”

For a wonder, he did.

“You’ll come to me, one day. I just pray you don’t come too late.”

He spun on his heel and left him standing in the foyer.

Akaashi swallowed hard, trying to control his fear of _he knows he know he knows_ and made the trek back up the tower.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

He was dreaming. He knew, because Bokuto was there, sleeping beside him. Akaashi slowly sat up, looking around him. His feather charms, hanging all around his canopy bed, fluttered in the breeze, setting the tiny bells tied into some of them ringing.

It was all so beautiful that for a while he sat there, just listening. It was only a dream after all. There was no hurry for anything.

A glow of white light caught his eyes.

The watch glass.

In reality, it was still safely hidden in his independent study room, but now it sat near the open door to his balcony, glittering with light. Akaashi slipped to his feet and padded over to it, curious.

Images flashed through it, too distant to make out. He knelt, bending close enough for his breath to fog the clear surface of the glass.

And like that, he fell.

Through the glass, cold and smooth against his skin like the touch of a snake, he fell and fell, watching the images fly by him. Images of his past, images of what must be the future.

He saw himself. A pale ghost version of himself, striding deep into a cavern with Bokuto at his side. _Flash._ Another version of himself, clearly dead. Blood, everywhere, Bokuto standing above him, weeping. _Flash._ This time, it was Bokuto on the ground, crumpled and broken. _Flash._ Akaashi, not dead but not alive, held in Bokuto’s arms. _Flash._ They stood back to back, while monsters converged around them and it was too many for anyone to take on, even a demon and his human pupil. _Flash._ A reaper with his deadly scythe, standing. Waiting. Watching. _Flash. Flash. Flashflashflash_

There seemed to be no end to the fall until suddenly there was.

He woke up crying.

 Alone.

 The last bit shouldn’t have hurt as much as it did.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

He returned from classes and his room was cold. Akaashi dropped his bag when he saw the balcony doors open, moving forward carefully.

He caught sight of a familiar thatch of wild grey hair and his heart leapt into his throat.

“Bokuto?”

The demon turned, not quite smiling, and stepped inside, shutting the doors with his foot.

“Akaashi.”

“Bokuto.” His hands were shaking as he stepped closer, uncertain of the demon standing before him. He felt so unsteady that it made his stomach turn. “You’re back.”

“Well, of course I’m back.” Bokuto frowned, matching his slow steps forward, until his hands curled around Akaashi’s arms.

Too close.

Not close enough.

Akaashi still couldn’t stop shaking.“What’s wrong, Akaashi?” When Akaashi could only mutely shake his head, Bokuto pulled him close to his chest. “I’ve got you now. I’m here. Tell me what’s wrong.” There was an edge of pleading to his voice.

“Yukie was here,” he said, his voice a thin, thread mockery of itself. “And Oikawa—” Tears threatened to spill over so Akaashi shut his eyes tightly, giving in to the selfish urge to bury his face in Bokuto’s chest. He could hear his steady heartbeat, feel the warmth radiating off of him.

Too close by far.

“Tell me,” Bokuto said, gentle and soft. The tears that had been a threat only moments before became a reality.

“Yukie,” he managed to say. “She attacked me in the woods.”

“Yukie said she introduced herself,” Bokuto said with a shrug even as his fingers traced a soothing pattern against his back. “I assumed you must have sent her to me.”

Akaashi forced a laugh. If that was what she called an introduction, he would hate to have an actual conversation with her.

“What did she want from you, Bokuto?”

“Ah…I borrowed something from her,” he said with a sheepish grin, scratching at his wild hair. “And may have forgotten to return it.”

“That’s it?”

“Well, yeah. What did you think she wanted?”

 _My guts, possibly yours, on a platter._ Akaashi swallowed hard and shook the thought away. If Bokuto said Yukie wasn’t a problem, he believed him. That still left the issue of Oikawa to deal with, and Akaashi didn’t like his chances in coming up with a workable solution that kept himself safe.

“Oikawa,” he whispered, brokenly, afraid. “He knows about us.”

“And?”

_And?_

_You’ll come to me one day. I pray you don’t come too late._

Those words had been haunting him. Oikawa hadn’t told anyone about Akaashi and his contact with demonkind, judging from how Akaashi had neither been expelled nor questioned by anyone else, but he was waiting for something terrible to come. What had happened to Oikawa, where he knew so much about demons? Akaashi didn’t have the time to worry about it.

“We have to do something about him.”

Bokuto’s brows lifted and he let go of Akaashi. “What, like… _do_ something about him?” he said, making a fist and smacking it into the opposite palm.

“No, nothing like that.” _Not if we don’t have to._

“Then what, Akaashi?”

Akaashi pressed his hands to his face, rubbing at his eyes. “I don’t know, Bokuto. I really don’t.”

The weight of his arm as it crept around his shoulders was warm and stabilizing and Akaashi couldn’t help but to lean into the simple touch. “We’ll figure it out,” he promised, sounding so very sure of himself that Akaashi was tempted to believe in him.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!


	9. Medallion

Akaashi hadn’t been dreaming of having a wild adventure when he decided that he would hunt down the book, but he hadn’t counted on the tasks leading up to finding it being quite so mundane.

Though with how things had been going lately, he was almost pleased to deal with something as practical and mundane as this. Research had always been his forte.

“We need a better map,” Bokuto groused.

“The map’s fine.”

“It’s missing all kinds of details!”

“Just because it’s not a demon map—”

Bokuto snorted, as if the very idea was ridiculous. Akaashi all but threw one of his pens at him, which he caught by reflex alone with an indignant squawk.

“Then add the details, Bokuto.” He stood and stretched, walking over to the balcony and squinting out at the weak sunlight. Winter was approaching and soon it’d be nothing but grey skies for months. Not that he minded too much. Summer marked the end of their contract, so Akaashi wouldn’t care if this winter lasted forever.

He turned back to see Bokuto actually dutifully penning in details on the map, tongue sticking out in concentration. The sight made him smile. Akaashi left him to it, instead flipping through the book on demonic runes, hoping to gain more insight from the inscribings on the watchglass. Bokuto had been able to translate it finally, but it wasn’t anything that made sense.

_Walk with me but fear me, for I am the Herald. Become the Voice, if you should dare._

It was Akaashi’s turn to snort. What a load of nonsense.

What was a witch doing, using demon runes in the first place? Humans had plenty of runes of their own. Akaashi thought of Kenma’s beads, all marked with runes, unbidden, and gritted his teeth. He returned to the book with a grim determination. There had to be a better translation.

“There! That’ll do for now! I still say we need a better map, but luckily you’ve got me, right, Akaashi?”

“Right,” he said, touching his arm as he bent back over the map again, setting the rune book aside for the moment. There were a fair number of new marks that were in Bokuto’s confident penmanship. Territory lines, it looked like, but there were also marks showing cave systems in the mountains. Akaashi shook his head, wondering what use they would really have for  _any_  of the new marks—despite his curiosity about which lines were Bokuto’s territory—and returned to his original purpose.

“We need to go back through all of history and find the largest magical events that happened, ones that might have left a mark on the world.” He tapped a finger against the parchment, thinking. “I’ll handle the human side of things if you can handle the demon side. We’ll make a list, figure out the general area where they occurred and go from there.”

“We got this! Betcha we find that book in no time!”

Akaashi smiled. “That is the hope, Bokuto.”

“You and me,” he jabbed a thumb towards his chest, “we make the best team!”

He cleared his throat, quickly looking back down at the map and away from Bokuto’s beaming face. “Naturally,” he said when he could properly gather himself.

 The problem was, they  _did_  make a good team. He and Bokuto meshed together with near perfect synchronization most of the time. It hadn’t even taken six years to do that—it had barely taken even one.

Akaashi could feel his good mood spiraling quickly downward and did his best to salvage it.

“Anyway, that’s all I’ve got for now. You should go get what you need to research and meet me back here.”

He pushed Bokuto towards the balcony.

“Whoa, hey—it’ll take me awhile to find anything, you know and—”

“I know. Just come back when you’re ready.”

He felt a strange thrill at giving such an open-ended command. It wasn’t like he hadn’t done it before. In fact, he did it with a frankly alarming frequency.  _He’s a demon, not my friend,_ the logical side of his brain tried to remind him.  _If it wasn’t for the contract, he would have eaten me already._

 _Yeah, right,_ the rest of him countered, memories flashing by. Bokuto giving him a piggyback ride after he exhausted his magic; them having a three in the morning sleep deprivation fuled arm wrestling match, which Akaashi lost, spectacularly; Bokuto sleeping beside him—

Akaashi gave him another push, gentler this time.

“But what are you gonna do, Akaashi?” Bokuto asked, whining a little as he resisted him.

Akaashi resisted the urge to roll his eyes, but it was a near thing. “I’m going to the library to find some books. Same as you.”

“Demons don’t have libraries, Akaashi,” he said with a haughty kind of air.

“Well, I’m assuming you have books still?”

“A few,” he admitted, “but mostly we learn stuff by word-of-mouth.”

Oral tradition. That would explain, partly, why humans had so little knowledge of demonkind, if there were no books to be stolen from them.

“Well, you find your research material and I’ll find mine,” Akaashi decided. “And we’ll regroup from there.”

“Right  _now_  though?”

Winter wouldn’t last forever, no matter how much Akaashi wished for it.

“Right now.”

“I just got here.” He spun, grabbing Akaashi’s wrists and looking at him plaintively. “Are you sure there isn’t anything else we can do first?”

His touch was warm, firm but gentle. Akaashi could feel every callous on Bokuto’s hands on the delicate skin of his wrists and it sent tingles down his spine.

“This is more important.”

“But Oikawa—”

“This is more important,” Akaashi repeated. “If the worst should happen, I’ll call for you. But if he hasn’t reported me yet, I doubt that he plans to anytime soon.” That was his hope, anyway. He still needed to think of a way to deal with him, but the book took precedence. Bokuto sighed but nodded in agreement. After making him promise that he would call for him if anything bad happened, Bokuto vanished.

The room felt lonely without him. The crow made a soft noise, drawing his attention to her.

It was barely light out. The library would open soon.

“Want to come with me?”

She cawed and flapped over to him, landing on his shoulder and nestling close to his neck, making him laugh a little at her eagerness. She had the freedom to come and go as she pleased, but she seemed to enjoy it best when they were all together—she, Akaashi and Bokuto.

If Akaashi was being honest, that’s what he liked best, too.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 “Need some help with that?”

Akaashi nearly flinched at the sound of Komi’s voice. He turned on a faint, polite smile though and waited for him to catch up to him. Komi gave the crow a sharp look, but he didn’t comment on her presence with him.

“Help?”

He gestured to the not inconsiderable stack of books in his arms.

“Are you even allowed to check out that many at once?” he asked, clearly amused as he slid a few from the top of the stack into his arms. His eyes widened as he hefted them. “A lightening spell! Nice. But isn’t that beyond a second year’s spell work?”

“I may have skipped ahead.”

“You’re in the advanced course.”

Akaashi bobbed his head, not certain what to say. Komi just laughed easily, smacking him none too gently on the back. “Well, that’s our little ace. What’re all these for?”

“I thought I’d do some research.”

Komi squinted down at the titles of the books, reading aloud.

“ ‘ _A Wizard’s Complete History’_ , ‘ _History of the Magical World’, ‘An Encyclopedia of Historical Events from the Wizard’s Perspective’…_ Akaashi, no offense, but don’t you get enough of this boring shit in history class?”

Akaashi couldn’t help smiling. He wasn’t one who was usually all that interested in history, nor was Komi.

“I’m trying to gain some insight. There have been inconsistencies during class that are bothering me, so I thought I’d clear them up on my own time.” It wasn’t a lie, for once. History class was more like propaganda class and everyone knew it.

“Right, because you have so much free time,” he said, rolling his eyes. “Don’t work yourself too hard, Akaashi. You’ve already got that independent study to worry about. How is that going, by the way?”

Akaashi was more than happy to regale him with the details of his study on the way back to the tower, happy that he hadn’t pushed the subject of exactly how many books students were allowed to check out at one time.

Bokuto wasn’t there when he opened the door. But of course he wasn’t there. Akaashi took a deep breath and released it, shutting the door behind him with his foot after graciously collecting the last few books from Komi. With the ward gone, Bokuto didn’t need to be there. He was still getting used to  his absence.

Crow Saeko cawed at him in reminder. Akaashi smiled. He wasn’t alone, at least.

He dropped all the books on top of his desk, being careful not to place them on spread-out map.

For as eager as he was to get started, Akaashi found himself distracted by the smallest things. He hung up his newest charms in the rapidly shrinking space around his bed and the windows; he reorganized his other books to make more space on the desk, discovering a lost notebook full of potion notes as he did so.

Only then did he realize he was actively avoiding the research ahead of him.

With a groan, he forced himself to sit and crack open the first book, pulling a fresh notebook and pen towards himself. He began to read, thankful he had taught himself the art of speed reading back in junior high.

Hours later, he was woken by the crow landing on his head. He startled hard and she hopped onto the open book he had been sprawled over on.

“Thanks,” he muttered, reaching out to stroke her beak. It was dark out. Past dinner time, his watch told him. But maybe there would still be leftovers in the kitchen. “Let’s go see if we can find some food.”

She cawed in agreement, riding his shoulder as he trekked down the stairs again and towards the kitchen.

Students weren’t supposed to go in there, per se. But as long as you didn’t make a big habit of it, the kitchen wizards and witches didn’t bother you about it. Akaashi slipped inside, sighing in combined relief at seeing the spread still out on one of the tables and the warmth that sank deep into his bones.

He perched at one of the stools, grateful to go mostly unnoticed, feeding bits of what he ate to the crow.

“She’s your familiar?” an excited voice asked.

Akaashi looked up…and up. The student was silver-haired and  _tall_ , wearing a brilliant smile.

“Yes,” he replied, taking another bite of food and wondering where he had seen the other student before.

“You have two, don’t you? That’s so cool!” He sat in the stool next to him, far too close for comfort. Akaashi frowned slightly and nodded, still chewing. “What’s her name?”

“She doesn’t have one yet,” he lied. It was only half a lie, but either way he didn’t feel bad about lying to a strange first year.

“Isn’t that kinda the first thing you do when you get a familiar? Give them a name?”

Akaashi fixed him with stare. “Who are you, exactly?”

“Lev! Haiba Lev. From Nekoma.”

“I’m—”

“—Akaashi Keiji! Fukurodani’s ace. I’m an ace too, you know!”

Akaashi’s frown deepened. “I don’t recall seeing you on the field during the match.” Now he could place where he had seen him—shouting on the sidelines during the game.

“Well, I’m  _going_  to be the ace, sometime soon.”

“Lev, quit bothering him and come on.”

They both turned to face an aggrieved looking Yaku Morisuke.

“You already had dinner, what are you even doing in here?” he scolded his junior, hauling him bodily up from his seat and dragging him towards the door despite Lev’s spluttering protests about wanting to talk and still being hungry.

“Sorry about this,” he said, then bobbed his head in goodbye. “Good game.”

“You too,” Akaashi said, but the pair was long gone.

He finished eating and headed back with his crow friend, happy that he didn’t run into anyone else on his way back to his room. Tomorrow he had classes and would have to deal with everyone again, but tonight he needed peace and quiet. Maybe he could get some more research in before he went to bed.

 He sat at his desk with that intent in mind, but Lev’s words kept replaying in his mind.

“You could be my familiar, for real, if you wanted.” The crow tilted her head at him curiously, unblinking, and cawed once. Akaashi sighed. “I wish I knew what you were saying. I wish—” he cut himself off before he could finish that thought aloud.

_I wish Bokuto was here._

Even if it was true, the admission of it felt shameful.

Akaashi shook his head.

“Well, how about a real name? I can’t just keep calling you Saeko, that name doesn’t belong to you.”

She hopped down onto the desk, tapping her beak lightly on one of the open books. Akaashi pulled it closer to him, skimming the words until she tapped again, on the picture this time. It showed one of the more famous of the witch princesses.

“Hime?” he questioned. It seemed a childish name, especially for a bird that was masquerading as his familiar, but she fluffed up with pleasure at the sound of the word. “All right then. Hime it is.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Seer class was ticking by even slower than usual.

Akaashi would be more willing to invite the visions in if they weren’t all so horrible when he got paired with a certain someone. Kenma gazed at him studiously from across the table and Akaashi tried to match his gaze.

It was just a class. It was just a vision. Just one more hour of this and he was free.

The hulking many-eyed shadow was even larger than before, standing so close to Kenma that Akaashi didn’t know how he couldn’t  _feel_  it there. The occasional flash let him see the inside of Kenma’s head again—something that was vastly easier to deal with than the new vision.

The reaper’s blade in Kenma’s hands was pristine and shining, but his hands caked in old blood and new.

_I see Death all around you._

Akaashi usually tried not to put too much stock in his visions, but this one was difficult to brush aside. He couldn’t begin to understand what it meant. Rather, he was afraid to.

“All right, time to switch!” Shimada called out. Akaashi almost sighed in relief, gathering up his notebook and searching for a new partner.

The boy next to him nudged him. “Hey, is Kenma…”

His eyes looked glassy and too bright. Akaashi frowned and leaned across the table.

“Kenma?”

He fainted.

It wasn’t like in the books, where one elegantly collapsed on a chaise. No; Kenma suddenly went boneless, eyes rolling back into his head, and he  _fell_ —it was only Hinata’s quick reflexes that kept him from smacking his head against the unforgiving stone floor.

Akaashi hurried to his side while Shimada yelled for everyone to give him some room.

“I-Is he okay? What do we do? He’s not dying, is he?” Hinata asked all in a worried rush.

“He’s perfectly fine. See? He’s already coming round,” Shimada said soothingly.

Indeed, his amber eyes were fluttering back open. He squinted up at them in confusion.

“He will, however, need to go to the hospital wing.”

“I’ll take him,” Akaashi quickly volunteered. Tadashi nodded.

“Very well. I’ll send word that the two of you are on your way. Go slowly,” he warned, with a concerned frown. They both nodded. Akaashi and Hinata helped Kenma get back to his feet, and Akaashi and Kenma made their slow way towards the hospital wing, Akaashi’s arm around him for support.

“What was that about?”

“I…don’t know.” Kenma rubbed at his head.

“Is it the insomnia again? Because—”

“It’s not. I haven’t been…no more than usual, anyway.” Kenma sighed. “Do you have to interrogate me?”

Akaashi flushed. “I’m just worried,” he admitted.

Kenma didn’t reply. They made the rest of the journey in tense silence. Once they were at the hospital wing, the nurse swooped in and had Kenma resting in a bed and drinking a restorative potion almost faster than Akaashi could follow.

“You should be getting back to class, young man,” she told him sternly.

“I’d like to stay with him for a bit. If that’s all right,” he added. Her face softened and she nodded before whisking away to her office, after a stern warning not to do anything to aggravate her patient.

Kenma drank the potion with a disgusted look on his face.

“You’d think,” he muttered, “that after hundreds of years of perfecting these, they could at least make them taste better.”

But that was all he said, and Akaashi wasn’t sure what he should say. What questions he should ask.

“I’ve been seeing something new around you,” Akaashi ventured.

“New, huh.” He couldn’t sound more disinterested if he tried. Akaashi took a deep breath, steeling himself for the worst.

“You’re…holding a reaper’s blade.”

He left out the blood. Kenma didn’t need to know about that. Instead of showing more disinterest or annoyance, Kenma buried his face in his hands, obviously distressed. Akaashi reached out to him only to be shrugged off.

“Why are you telling me this?”

“Because I think you deserve the truth. And because I think you might know what it means.”

“You’re annoyingly observant.”

“I could say the same about you.”

Kenma lifted his head with half a smile.

“You want the truth?”

Akaashi wasn’t certain he was worthy of the truth, after all the lies he had been telling him, but that didn’t stop him from wanting it. So he kept quiet, waiting for Kenma to decide what to do about the situation.

“It’s a family thing,” he said after a while, picking at his fingers. “I had thought—I had  _hoped_  I had gotten away from it. I’d showed no talent for it before, so…”

“Late bloomer?” Akaashi suggested, and Kenma shot him a dirty look that quickly crumpled into distress.

 “I don’t want this. I never wanted this.”

Akaashi doubted that anyone would choose to become a reaper. It was a grisly job, at best.

“So,” Akaashi said after a few moments passed, speaking carefully, “you’re not human?”

“Of course I’m human!” Kenma burst out angrily. Then he sank back against the pillows, seemingly exhausted, turning his gaze aside. “For now, anyway,” he finished in a mutter, just as angry but less forceful.

“For how long?”

“It’s different for everyone.” He pulled the blankets up over the lower half of his face, clearly intent on ignoring Akaashi as much as possible despite the fact he was still responding verbally to him. “I’m tired, Akaashi.”

“Right.” He stood, feeling at a loss. “I’ll come by later.”

“Don’t bother. I’ll stay for an hour then go back to the tower.”

“I don’t think Kuroo will be happy with that.” He wasn’t happy with that either.

“He’s not my mother. Neither are you.” He closed his eyes. “I’m fine. Really.”

“Promise?” Akaashi asked. Kenma sighed but nodded.

Akaashi hesitated at his bedside.

“What now?”

“Does Kuroo know?”

When Kenma opened his eyes, they were dull and listless. Kenam pulled the blankets back down a fraction.

“No. And I don’t want you telling him.”

“I wouldn’t betray your confidence.”

 “I know.” He rolled onto his side, a clear dismissal. Akaashi leaned down, touching his shoulder gently, just for a moment. Then he left.

At least if he was to die, Kenma would be the one to take him to the afterlife.

Except people without souls didn’t get an afterlife, did they?

Akaashi shivered despite the sunlight and hurried to his next class.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 Bokuto returned two days later, brimming with energy. When he saw Akaashi’s face though, he seemed to restrain himself a little. Kenma hadn’t returned to his classes, holed up in his tower, and the worry was draining. Not to mention Akaashi was jumping at his own shadow, expecting Oikawa to appear with the professors in tow.

Akaashi still didn’t have a plan for what he would do. Only half-formed notions of battling his way free, or maybe calling to Bokuto for aid. He would escape and live in the mountains until they either found him or their contract ended.

The fact that he was dead in either option did not escape him.

“You look tired. Not sleeping well, huh? I know a spell for that.”

“As do I.” He didn’t mention that he hadn’t slept well since the day Bokuto left him, didn’t mention that he slept best when he was right there beside him.

“Something wrong, Akaashi?”

_One of my best friends is turning into a reaper. I’m as good as dead come summer. Oh, and Oikawa Tooru knows I’m connected with demonkind._

“Nothing more than the usual,” he muttered, a bit sour. Bokuto hummed thoughtfully, patting his head and mussing his hair. “Stop that,” he said, without much force behind it.

“Fine, fine,” Bokuto sighed, pulling his hand away, fingers flexing. One instant they were normal, human hands, the next, they were clawed weapons. Akaashi forced himself to look away and pulled his notebook towards himself, eyes skimming over the notes he had made so far.

“Did you find anything?”

 “A few things. And, and! I brought you a present.” Boktuo whispered a word and a book suddenly  _twisted_  into being and fell neatly into his hands. He presented the book to Akaashi with  a proud smile. Akaashi hesitantly took it from him and nearly gasped as he felt the power thrumming through the pages. He traced the edges of the soft leather cover.

“What is this?”

“A demon book!”

Akaashi flipped it open to the first page and found himself looking at an indecipherable scrawl of letters. Demon language. It made his eyes burn, just looking at it.

“I can’t read this,” he said, trying to hand it back over, but Bokuto refused to take it.

“Hold on, hold on,” he said, placing a hand over Akaashi’s eyes. If he wasn’t so shocked at the sudden touch, he would have fought it, but he just held still in the new darkness. Bokuto said a string of unfamiliar words that made Akaashi’s eyes water. Then he pulled away.

“Try now!”

“I don’t see how…” Akaashi trailed off as he looked back down at the book. The words were swimming before his eyes, unsteady, but  _human_  words. He had to squint to make sense of them and he could feel the promise of a headache, but he could  _read it._

“You have to teach me that one,” he managed to breathe. Bokuto laughed.

“Sure thing! It’s a tricky one and you shouldn’t use it all the time because it’ll kill your eyesight probably, but it’s pretty cool, right?”

“Very cool,” he agreed, already reading on. “Bokuto, thank you.”

“Of course!”

It was an effort to tear his eyes away from the book, but he managed. “What else did you find?”

“Lots of stories,” he said eagerly, and launched into the first one with further ado. Akaashi grabbed for a pen and started taking notes, trying to process everything he said objectively so that he didn’t focus on the violence.

It took him a few hours to get through all of them, but it left him with a list of at least three major magical events to add to the four human ones that Akaashi had managed to track down. Seven. That was supposed to be a lucky number. Akaashi figured they could use all the luck they could get, with this.

“What’s wrong, Akaashi?”

“We’re going to need a better map.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Akaashi wasn’t surprised that Oikawa came to him, but it was still something he had been hoping to avoid for a while longer yet. He found him alone on his way back from returning his borrowed books to the library. Well, not quite alone; Hime was hitching another ride on his shoulder.

“You and me, we need to talk.”

“I have nothing to say to you,” Akaashi said flatly.

“Are you always this disrespectful to your elders?”

Akaashi ignored the question. “What do you want?”

“I feel like we got off on the wrong foot,” Oikawa said lightly, face split by a charming smile. It didn’t quite reach his dark brown eyes.

“I’m not sure what gave you that impression.”

“You know, you’ll awfully snippy considering I’m the man who holds your life in his hands.”

The reminder that Oikawa could alert the professors at any time about Akaashi’s unsavory  _connections_  was unnecessary. Akaashi didn’t think he had ever stopped being afraid, but his heartrate picked up at his words.

“A joke,” Oikawa sighed, waving the words away with an elegant twist of his wrist, “it was a joke. A poor one, I suppose, considering.”

Akaashi stared blankly back at him. He would not let him see him shaken.

“I just want to talk. If you have the time.”

“My social calendar is full,” he responded flatly.

“Well then.” He clapped a hand down on his shoulder; a friendly gesture from the outside, but his fingers clamped down tight enough to bruise. “I strongly suggest you clear up some space for me. Say, tonight, after lights-out? Don’t worry, I’ll come to you.”

Before Akaashi could respond, he was gone, waving jauntily back at him over his shoulder.

Hime squawked in his ear.

“Yeah,” he sighed, reaching up to stroke her head, “I don’t like him much either.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

A soft knock came at his door and Akaashi glared at it for several moments before going over to answer it.

Oikawa was there, as was a scowling Iwaizumi.

Akaashi made no move to let them inside.

“What do you want?”

“Trust me, little owl, this is not a conversation you want to be caught having in the hallway. Or caught at all.” Oikawa raised an eyebrow. “So?”

Akaashi sighed and stepped aside, and they both came trooping in like they owned the place. Iwaizumi seemed particularly interested in the feather charms.

“These from your demon buddy?”

Akaashi shot a sharp look at Oikawa—not that he was all that surprised that he had told him, but  _really, he had told him?_

“Yes,” he answered after a few beats. Iwaizumi grunted and left it at that, plunking himself down backwards in the desk chair, leaving Oikawa to primly seat himself at the edge of the bed. Akaashi remained standing, folding his arms tightly over his chest. At least Hime was there, lurking on the canopy of the bed.

“What do you want?” he repeated.

“To make amends, of sorts. We seem to always be on each other’s bad side and I’d like to make that up to you.”

“Why are you really here?”

Oikawa smiled, eyes flashing bright in the light of the fireplace. Iwaizumi remained impassive, unreadable.

“Clever boy,” he praised.

“I’m not a dog.”  _Least of all_ your  _dog._

Oikawa made a vague gesture. “Iwa-chan, if you don’t mind.”

The other man snapped out a warding spell, one that was well beyond the third year’s learning curriculum. Akaashi couldn’t help from being a  _little_  impressed.

“It seems you’re determined to stay involved with demons. I myself understand the temptation.” He paused there, tapping his fingers together. “I simply want to answer any questions you may have.”

“About?”

“Anything,” he said, still smiling.

“And you expect me to just trust you blindly?”

“I expect you to take this opportunity for what it is. Trusting me has little to do with it.” He tilted his head slightly, as though listening to something unseen. “You don’t think I trust you, do you?”

“There’s nothing in this for you. You gain nothing by answering my questions.”

Oikawa sighed, inspecting his nails. “How about we swear on it, then. I’ll promise to not spread around your dirty secret, and you agree to my protection.”

“Your—your protection? You honestly think that I need  _your_ —”

“From yourself, yes, I think you do. And your dangerous demon-fueled inclinations.”

Akaashi had no argument for that. Oikawa seemed to take that as agreement, shooting him a coy smile. The next moment, he was sliding a silver knife from his boot and bringing it down across his palm. Akaashi jumped away from him.

“What are you—”

“What, all you’ve done and you’re scared of a little blood magic?” Oikawa asked with a challenging lift of his brow.

“I’m not scared,” Akaashi said between his teeth, “just not suicidal.”

There was a reason blood magic was outlawed. A very good reason. Blood oaths were not to be taken on lightly, either.

“There are some, dear little owl, who would disagree with you.” He held out his hand insistently, dripping blood all over the floor. A glance towards Iwaizumi found his face impassive, watching Akaashi closely.

Akaashi swallowed hard and held out his hand to Oikawa.

The slash of the knife stung., but not as badly as Akaashi was expecting. Before Akaashi could do more than hiss in pain, Oikawa was clasping hands with him, scrawling out runes over both their arms using the mixture of their blood. Akaashi recognized most of them, but not the words that he was whispering, ones that sank cold and deep into his bones.

Then the cold vanished, leaving only a faintly numb feeling behind and a faint scent of ozone and iron.

“Well, now that  _that’s_ out of the way,” Oikawa murmured, sliding the knife back into his boot. Iwaizumi stood and muttered out a healing spell over both their hands. Except for the blood, there wasn’t a trace of injury left. “We can get down to business. We’re both sworn to silence on what happens in this room tonight.”

“Thanks,” Akaashi said belatedly as Iwaizumi reclaimed his seat. Iwaizumi shrugged, as if to say  _I did it for him, not for you._

“Questions, questions! I don’t have all night.” Oikawa snapped his fingers at him, still smiling.

“Quit being an ass, Shittykawa.”

 Akaashi expected them to devolve into an argument like they usually did, but Oikawa just settled himself more comfortably on Akaashi’s bed. Akaashi had a multitude of questions, of course. He tried to sort through them as best he could.

“Why did you follow me into the forest?”

“Because you’re a suspicious man.”

“I think your stalking habit makes you the more suspicious of the two of you,” Iwaizumi drawled out. A small kitten poked its head out of his shirt pocket, blinking bright green eyes at the room. Hime squawked and it ducked back down.

“Mean, Iwa-chan! I don’t stalk, I investigate!”

 As interesting as it was to know that Oikawa apparently had a stalking habit, Akaashi had bigger concerns.

“Why haven’t you reported me?”

“Because you’d likely be killed, and I’d be out a rival. It’d be a damn shame.”

“We’re not rivals.”

“No?”

“No,” Akaashi said firmly. He didn’t need something as troublesome as that in his life. He sat, finally, a good foot or two of space between him and Oikawa on the bed. It felt strange to share it with someone like him when not so long ago he had been sharing it with—

 _No._  Akaashi cut that train of thought off before it could go any disastrously further.

“How did you know about the seals causing damage?”

“Iwa-chan,” Oikawa answered instantly, as if that cleared everything up.

“And…how did he know?”

“Because I’m not a dumbass,” he growled out.

 _Ah. Well. That answers everything._ Akaashi couldn’t help feeling frustrated as Oikawa shot a strangely fond smile in Iwaizumi’s direction. Iwaizumi glowered, which would have been menacing if he wasn’t still struggling to keep the kitten from scaling down his body like a climbing post.

Which brought him to perhaps the most important question of the night.

“How do you know about the demons?”

“Everyone knows a little about demons, come on, Akaashi.”

Akaashi waited. Oikawa sighed, running his hands through his hair in defeat.

“I made a contract, once upon a time. The biggest mistake of my life.”

Akaashi closed his eyes briefly. He had had his suspicions about Oikawa being involved with demons. Knowing that he was—or at least had been, _once upon a time_ —didn’t make him feel any better.

“Why are you telling me all this?”

“So I can save you.”

“If you had a contract, you know there’s no way of escaping it once made. Besides, I’m not even from your tower, what do you care what I do with my life?”

“Akaashi, your loyalty is commendable, but not everything is about what tower you’re from. Most of us will graduate, which means at least some of us will be working together out in the big, bad world.” Akaashi couldn’t help feeling foolish for having even said that, and from the look on Oikawa’s face, he could tell. “To be fair, I don’t care what you end up doing with your life, aside from this whole demon thing.”

He clapped his hands together lightly. “So! Next question?”

“How are you still alive?” Akaashi blurted out.

 Oikawa didn’t answer at first. Iwaizumi shifted in his chair, scowl deepening.

“There are only two things a demon wants out of a contract. Your soul, or your life.” Oikawa looked away, his smile distant and brittle. “I managed to barter my way down to half my life.”

Akaashi swallowed hard. “In exchange for?”

“Half my life,” he said, lifting one hand, “in exchange for  _this.”_ He snapped his fingers and a flame sprang into life, hanging suspended above his hand. Akaashi remained quiet for a while, brain struggling to process everything Oikawa had told him.

“Why?” he asked finally. “Anyone who wants to go to this school has heard your name before. You already had power, so why?”

“That’s the thing about power, isn’t it? Once you get some, you always want more.” He leaned forward, close enough for Akaashi to feel the warm puff of his breathing. Akaashi didn’t drop his gaze, hard as it was. “You’ve felt it. Or we wouldn’t be here.”

Akaashi nodded.

Satisfied, he leaned back and Akaashi let out a small breath he hadn’t been aware he was holding. “So what did you give?”

“My soul,” he grated out.

Oikawa let out a low whistle.

“I’ll be honest, I’m not sure which of us got the more shit deal.”

“I’d say we’re even.”

“One thing’s for sure, little owl,” he said with a wry sort of grin. “We’re both fucking idiots.”

Akaashi smiled back.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 “We need a way to narrow these down,” Akaashi mused as they both stared down at the newly marked map. Seven spots for luck was all well and good, but Akaashi only had so many months to spare, and he didn’t want to waste one bit of them.

Not exposing himself to more danger than necessary was also a motivator.

“Oh! Hey, hey, I just thought of something,” Bokuto said eagerly, sitting up from his prone position on the bed. Akaashi raised his eyebrows, waiting. “Yukie can read runes.”

“And what does that have to do with anything?”

“She can help us to narrow our choices down!” He hopped to his feet and bounded over to Akaashi, dividing his warm gaze between him and the map.

“No one is supposed else can find out we’re looking for the book, Bokuto. You know what would happen if they knew,” Akaashi reasoned with him.

“We don’t have to tell her what we’re looking for, just that we’re looking for something!”

Akaashi watched him for a moment, watched his warm, excited smile.

“You’re not serious about this.”

Akaashi didn’t need to see his face to know that Bokuto was indeed serious.

“She’s my friend!”

“I thought demons didn’t have friends.”

“Well,” he ran his fingers through his hair, making it stick up even more, “she’s the closest thing I’ve got. We’re practically family.”

“Well your  _family_ tried to kill me not so long ago,” Akaashi said coolly. “No offense but I’m not exactly thrilled by this idea of yours.”

“Do you have a better plan?” Bokuto asked, sulking.

He didn’t even have  _a_ plan, let alone a better one. Akaashi sighed heavily, twirling the pen he held between his fingers.

“Yukie is really nice once you get to know her,” Bokuto wheedled.

“I’m sure Terushima is too.”

“Terushima?” Bokuto blinked in wide-eyed surprise. “No, not really. He has his moments though.”

“You’re certain about this then?” Akaashi grudgingly asked and Bokuto perked up at once.

“Yeah! She’s almost as great as I am!”

From what Akaashi had gathered during their brief meeting, Yukie was stronger than Bokuto, but Bokuto wouldn’t knowingly put him in danger.

Probably. Not on purpose.

“So we just ask Yukie to read the runes for us and she, what, agrees out of the goodness in her heart?”

“She owes me.”

“From what I can tell, you’re the one who owes her.”

“That was totally different! I borrowed some stuff, but now I’ve given it back, so it’s all good now!”

Akaashi rubbed at his temples, trying to ward off his oncoming headache. “Fine.”

Bokuto let out a whoop, punching his fist into the air. Akaashi couldn’t help smiling, despite himself.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

They had to wait until Akaashi’s next day off to go seek out Yukie. In the meantime, Akaashi had exams, which his passed with little to no effort. He couldn’t help being disappointed at how easily he sailed through to the top of the class. There was no sense of accomplishment, despite how the teachers praised him or his friends congratulated him.

There was only the sense that the human magical community could be so much  _more_  if they weren’t so skittish of their own powers.

He was unsurprised to find himself cornered by Kuroo one evening after dinner. Akaashi was still munching on his last bite of food when he came up behind him and herded him away from the crowd of students leaving the cafeteria.

“If this is about Kenma, there’s nothing I can tell you that he already hasn’t,” Akaashi said before Kuroo could speak. Kuroo shook his head.

“Who else knows?”

“Knows?”

“That Kenma is,” he looked around swiftly, leaning in close—too close. He was boxing him in against the wall with his arms and Akaashi could feel his breath on his face, “a reaper.”

Akaashi’s stomach dropped and he began to regret his third helpings of dinner.

“I thought—he said you didn’t know.”

“I know everything about him.”

“He doesn’t know that you know,” Akaashi breathed, searching Kuroo’s eyes for confirmation. The anguish in his dark gaze was answer enough. “I won’t ask how you  _do_  know. But like I said, there’s nothing I can tell you.”

“So you haven’t told anyone?”

“You really think I would betray his confidence?”

Kuroo winced visibly and retreated, pulling his arms away. “I had to make sure. If the professors knew,” he trailed off. If the professors knew, Kenma would be sent away. The school was strictly human only.

“It’s not my secret to tell,” Akaashi said, gently as he could.

“Not even to Bokuto?”

“Don’t say his name. But no, not even him.”

Some of the wound tension drained out of Kuroo. “Sorry for doubting you, Akaashi,” he eventually said, turning away. “I don’t know what I was thinking.”

He was thinking he had to keep Kenma safe. He was thinking that if one of his closest friends could summon a demon and bind it to him, how trustworthy could he really be? It still hurt, but Akaashi couldn’t be offended by Kuroo’s worry.

“How is he?” Akaashi asked before he could leave, placing a restraining hand on his arm. “Kenma. I haven’t seen him since then.”

Kuroo glanced back at him with a half-hearted smile. “He’s resting. He won’t talk much. I think he’ll come back soon, though. He’s made of tough stuff.”

With that, he walked off towards Nekoma tower. Probably to return to Kenma’s side.

Akaashi wanted to go with him.

He closed his eyes for a count of five, and walked back to his own tower. Hime greeted him happily when he entered, especially when he handed over the table scraps he had snuck away for her.

He had his own problems to deal with right now. Kenma would either come to him for help, or not, and there was nothing Akaashi could do before then.

Even so, Akaashi still made an extra trip to the library, gathering all the books there were that pertained to the reapers.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Bokuto came to him in the hours before dawn, without being called.

Akaashi was asleep when he arrived, waking only when Bokuto bent over him and shook him gently awake.

“I didn’t call you,” he rasped out, voice rough from sleep, as he sat up, rubbing tiredly at his eyes. Bokuto didn’t back off any, so the movement brought them even closer together. Bokuto ruffled with hair with a gentle hand and Akaashi almost leaned into the touch.

Almost.

“I’m being proactive,” he declared proudly. Then he deflated slightly. “You don’t mind, do you?”

“No,” Akaashi decided, even though it was unnerving to think the demon might come parading around at all hours. He needed to have a stricter hand. Even as he thought it, Akaashi knew he couldn’t follow through with it. He liked Bokuto too much, trusted him too much. “No, I don’t mind.”

Bokuto smiled. “Well, c’mon, get dressed and let’s go!”

Akaashi dressed hurriedly, trying to pretend he didn’t feel Bokuto’s eyes on him the whole time, and gathered up his bag just in case.

“How are we getting there?” he asked.

“We’re going to fly! Part of the way, anyway.”

Without further ado, Boktuo grabbed hold of Akaashi, pulling him in close, murmuring soft words that fell like raindrops, and they  _twisted—_

They landed in the middle of an unfamiliar forest, Bokuto still holding on and Akaashi trying not to vomit from the stress of dematerializing and rematerializing in the space of a few seconds.

Bokuto led the way, leading him deeper and deeper into the woods. The trees around them were larger, older than any he’d ever seen before. The land they were on, despite being demon territory, looked perfectly normal. There was the usual flora and fauna for the area. The sun didn’t suddenly stop shining.

Akaashi wasn’t sure what he had been expecting, but it wasn’t  _this._

“A treehouse,” he deadpanned.

“It’s her house, and it’s in a tree, so I, uh, I guess so?” Bokuto said, scratching at the back of his head.

Akaashi didn’t see any ladders or other ways to climb up. “I can’t get up there,” he said, but by the time the last syllable was out of his mouth, Bokuto had scooped him up in his arms and was pushing off from the ground. Akaashi very nearly screamed at the sudden movement, the burst of cold autumn air in his face, the feel of Bokuto’s muscles moving as he flew them up. He threw his arms tight around Bokuto’s neck, hanging on for his life, even though the hand beneath his knees and at his back felt very steady.

He landed lightly, as if carrying Akaashi was nothing. He made no move to put him down, though granted Akaashi made no move to let go just yet.

“Put me down, Bokuto.” He managed to unlatch his arms from around Bokuto’s neck but immediately grabbed hold of his shirt when Bokuto began walking forward. “Bokuto—”

“You’re shaking. I got you, no big deal.”

“I’m  _fine._ ” Akaashi forced himself to let go and to push, hard, against Bokuto’s chest. He didn’t budge an inch, instead frowning down at him. “Just—a little warning would have been nice.”

“Ah, right! Sorry.” He had the decency to look sheepish, and finally set him back on his feet, just in time for the door to the treehouse to fling open. Yukie was just as intimidating as before, though Akaashi felt better having Bokuto beside him.

“Bokuto,” she said, eyeing him sidelong before sizing up Akaashi with a predatory smile. “And your human pet. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“We need you to read the runes for us,” Boktuo said at once, stepping forward and in between her and Akaashi. The protective move was not lost on Yukie, who smiled wider, nor Akaashi, who would have been mad if he wasn’t so relieved to have him as a barrier. “Please.”

“Well, when you ask so nicely, how can I say no?” she said with a laugh, moving back into the house and leaving them to follow after her. Bokuto went ahead with no hesitation, wings folding back neatly until they melted into the familiar form of his cloak. Akaashi moved slower, closing the door behind himself with a sense of trepidation.

But Yukie barely spared him a glance, busy gathering something from her desk.

Akaashi took the opportunity to look around, surprised to find that it looked not so dissimilar to a human’s house. There were drying herbs strung up near the window, a bed, a desk, a table crammed full of bottles and other knick-knacks. He noticed a wind chime also hanging and moved towards it, intrigued by the swirling patterns carved into the wood. Upon closer inspection though, it was bone, not wood.

Feeling sick, telling himself that it was probably just deer bones, Akaashi joined Bokuto where he was sitting comfortably on the floor.

Yukie finally joined them, a soft cloth bag in her clawed hands.

“I assume I’m reading for the human,” she said. “Any specific questions?”

“Not exactly,” Bokuto answered for him, patting Akaashi’s knee. “More like, we’re doing some research and want to know if we’re headed in the right direction.”

“The more upfront you are with me, the better the reading will be. You must know that.” When neither of them said anything, she sighed. “Very well. Hold the question in your mind while I throw.”

Yukie dumped out the contents of the bag into her hands.

“I’m sorry,” Akaashi said, staring in disgust at the small objects, “are those  _human teeth?_ ”

“Don’t be so squeamish,” Yukie ordered, rolling her eyes. “The man was already dead when I took them. It wasn’t like he needed them for anything.” Bokuto nodded emphatically.

“So you killed a man for his teeth?”

“We’re not all as soft-hearted as your Bokuto.”

Akaashi looked to Bokuto, who only shrugged.

The bracelets on her wrists chimed musically as she shook the teeth in her hands, then threw them onto the ground between them. She hummed to herself as she inspected the runes inscribed on each. Akaashi resisted the urge to edge away from the ones closest to him.

“You’ve got a reaper on your tail,” she announced.

_Tell me something I don’t know._

“You can tell them from a bunch of runes? I thought the answers would be more,” he hesitated slightly as she turned her red gaze on him, “vague.”

“Work with runes as long as I have and you get to knowing a lot more. ‘sides, these are demon runes. Much better than that nonsense you humans work with.”

Akaashi thought that was probably a matter of opinion, but wisely kept that to himself.

She turned back to the runes, picking over them one by one, clicking her tongue every so often.

“They say you’re on the right path, but there’s not much more here. ‘The mountain path’, they say, if that means something to you.”

“That’s it?” Bokuto asked, clearly disappointed.

“That’s it.” She clasped her hands together, talons scraping. “Now, there is the matter of my payment.”

Akaashi shot a sharp look towards Bokuto. He had said something about her owing him. Had that been a lie?

No; Bokuto was incapable of lying to him.

“You owe for that one time,” Bokuto said calmly, “with the dragon council.”

“That was before you stole my potions.”

“Borrowed!”

“Without permission.”

Bokuto groaned theatrically. “Yukie, c’mon, you can’t hold that against me forever!”

“The payment I ask for isn’t much,” she said, ignoring him in favor of staring at Akaashi. Akaashi couldn’t help shivering at the intensity of her gaze, immediately looking back down at the scattered runes. He shouldn’t have come here.

“I just want some of your blood, human.”

He really,  _really_  shouldn’t have come here.

“Out of the question,” Bokuto snapped out. “He’s mine. Take some of my blood.”

“I don’t want your blood, Bokuto. I want  _his._ ”

“Surely,” Akaashi said weakly, “there’s something else we can give you. Some favor we can do in exchange.”

 Yukie sighed, leaning back. A devious smile played across her face.

“Well now that you mention it, there is one  _other_  thing you could do for me.” She sighed. “But it’s dangerous.”

 “Name it,” Bokuto said quickly, relieved they were off the topic of Akaashi’s blood.

 “I want water from the Holy Spring,” she said, calm and steady as can be.

“No,” Bokuto flatly refused, even as Akaashi was wondering what spring she was referring to. “Anything but that.”

“It’s either that or your human’s blood. Take your pick, Bokuto Koutarou.”

Bokuto growled under his breath, a soft rumble that Akaashi felt more than heard. He put a restraining hand on his knee.

“Where is this spring, exactly?”

Yukie grinned toothily and snapped her fingers, a scroll appearing in her hand. She spread it out over the scattered teeth, tapping to an area on the map. “I can lend you this map. It’s a bit of a trip from here, but I’m sure the two of you can manage together.”

Akaashi leaned over the map, inspecting the spot she had tapped.  _The Holy Spring of the Eldest._ The name meant nothing to him.

 “We’re not doing it,” Bokuto declared.

“Shut up,” Akaashia and Yukie said at the same time. Bokuto moodily withdrew.

“How much water are we talking?”

This time, Yukie stood and rummaged amidst her cluttered table until she pulled free an empty glass jar. There were strange charms wrapped tightly around it, silver and more bone. Akaashi gingerly took it from her, as well as the map, bowing awkwardly from his seated position.

“Consider it done.”

“Akaashi, we are so not—”

“Bokuto, we so are,” Akaashi countered easily, talking over him as he got to his feet, still watching Yukie from the corner of his eyes. No doubt Bokuto knew of the dangers that awaited them at the spring, but giving his blood was decidedly  _not_  an option. He shoved the jar and the map into his bag. “Let’s go. Thank you for the reading, Yukie of the High Grove.”

“If you ever want another, you know where to find me.”

She laughed as Akaashi dragged Bokuto out the door. With a glare and an irritated shake of his shoulders, his wings reformed. When he swept Akaashi off his feet, this time he was prepared for it.

He hung just as tightly as before.

“I still say we didn’t have to end up doing this,” Bokuto grumbled.

“It’s not like we were in any position to argue, Bokuto,” Akaashi pointed out. Bokuto gently set him back on his feet when Akaashi pushed at his chest. They started walking again, headed back the way they came.

“Sure we were!” he said, still irritable.

“Boktuo, she’s stronger than you. We couldn’t risk a fight.”

Bokuto gaped at him, more surprised than offended like Akaashi thought he would be. Then he burst out into bright peals of laughter, clutching at his sides and howling with mirth.

“You think that—that Yukie—” he laughed so hard that he snorted and nearly lost his footing.

“It’s not that funny, Bokuto,” Akaashi said, eyeing him sidelong. Bokuto snorted again, his laughter dying down into helpless little giggles that would have been endearing had Akaashi had any idea why he was laughing in the first place.

“Akaashi, Akaashi, you’re so—so,  _so_  funny sometimes, Akaashi.”

“I fail to see where all this amusement is coming from—”

“Powers, you actually thought that Yukie was stronger than me!”

Akaashi stared at him for a few moments, wondering when the pieces would click into place and make sense. He very much felt like he was missing something. He remembered the oppressive and undeniably aggressive strength of Yukie’s magic pinning him down, rendering him unable to even  _reach_  for his own magic. He had never felt that from Bokuto, so how could he say he was stronger?

“Bokuto, I think you owe me an explanation. This doesn’t make sense.”

“Nah, it makes perfect sense! C’mon, we’re going to make a little side-trip so I can show you something.” He clapped a hand to Akaashi’s shoulder and squeezed a little. The contact was both too familiar and too fleeting and by the time Akaashi could even process it, Bokuto had turned and was walking in the opposite direction.

Akaashi sighed but decided fighting him would be the least productive route to take, judging from the excited bounce in his step and that glimmer in his eyes.

“Where are we going, Bokuto?”

“Home, Akaashi! I’m taking you home!”

“Home?”

“The Red Glades, of course!”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 Legs aching, Akaashi looked up to make sure Bokuto wasn’t getting too far ahead of him.

“Remind me why we can’t just fly there?” Akaashi called out to him. Bokuto turned back with a winning smile, bouncing a few steps closer. He wasn’t even winded, the bastard.

“Old protective spells, Akaashi! Besides, this is the scenic route!”

“I still have to—”

“—get back to the school, yeah, yeah. Don’t worry, I’ll get you in before curfew.”

It wasn’t worth the argument, telling him he didn’t have a curfew, just that people would take notice if he disappeared for an entire day.

“It’s not much farther now!”

He had said the same thing an hour ago. Akaashi just sighed and followed after him.

The Red Glades. His territory, his home. It felt strange both that he hadn’t been there before as well as that he was being allowed there. As they neared the top of the next peak, Bokuto began moving faster, more excitement in his movements. They really must be close.

Tired as he was, Akaashi hurried after him, eager to see. Bokuto threw up his arms, gesturing before him.

“Home sweet home!”

Beneath them lay a field of poppies that seemed to extend on and on without end. Akaashi caught his breath at the sight, unable to tear his eyes away from the intensity of the color. There were trees interspersed—red maples.

“What do you think?” Bokuto’s face was expectant as he turned to Akaashi, but when Akaashi opened his mouth to answer, he could find no words. Bokuto’s expression softened into something unbearably tender. “It’s beautiful, right?”

“It is,” Akaashi finally managed to say. “Bokuto, I—thank you. For showing me.” For sharing something so personal, he almost said, but swallowed the words back just in time.

He shrugged it off, but Akaashi could tell he was pleased.

“I like it. I’m glad you like it, too. Let’s go down.”

He offered a steadying hand to Akaashi several times as they picked their way down the rocks to the field. Akaashi tried to focus on keeping his balance and not to focus on the feel of his hands in his own, the warmth of it, the strength of it.

It was just as breathtaking up close as it was from a distance, the air full of the fragrant scent despite the chill in the air.

“Are you ready?” Bokuto asked, craning his neck back around to look at Akaashi. His arms and wings were spread wide, welcoming the wind that blew around them. The light caught in his hair and eyes, setting him ablaze. Akaashi’s breath caught in his throat. He nodded.

Bokuto turned his head back around and shouted out a single word, one that rang clear and loud and true, buzzing in his ears like he was standing in a bell tower.

The world shifted.

No, that wasn’t quite right. Because it was simply that Akaashi had fallen to his knees, breathless, in awe—Bokuto turned to him with one of his five-alarm grins, arms still spread wide like he was directing the world around him.

Akaashi could hardly bear the sight of him, so suffused with his power. So bright, so beautiful. He couldn’t think of reaching for his own magic, could hardly think straight at all.

_So this is a demon’s true power._

He had expected it be darker, to be something cold and tinged with evil, but Bokuto was so  _light_  and burning, burning in his eyes.

“Whatcha think, Akaashi? Still think she’s stronger than me?”

“You’re stronger,” he managed to choke out, still barely breathing, still on his hands and knees amidst the flowers. Bokuto crouched down beside him, head cocked to one side and Akaashi wanted to beg—for him to have mercy and put his magic away, maybe, to not come so close to he wouldn’t burn up with the brightness of it—but he did none of those things.

Bokuto offered him his hand.

“Want to feel?”

 _Please._ He had never wanted anything more. Akaashi grabbed for him clumsily, latching on to his forearm, gasping when he felt Bokuto  _push_  his magic towards him, into him.

It was like reaching for the sun and catching it with your bare hands. Akaashi closed his eyes tightly, shaking hard enough he was surprised his hand didn’t come loose from Bokuto’s arm. But he clung on desperately still, barely feeling Bokuto holding back.

Gradually the magic pulled away from him and Akaashi let out a breath that was more of a sob than anything. It all faded back, until Bokuto was just Bokuto again. Like the power had never been there at all. Akaashi opened his eyes to find Bokuto watching him intently.

“How,” he asked tremulously.

“It’s kinda like the shield you keep up on your magic, so no one can see unless you let them. Only works for demons though, else I would have taught you the trick.”

Akaashi nodded, unable to speak.

Bokuto squeezed his arm and Akaashi became aware that he had yet to let go. He couldn’t pry his fingers loose if he tried.

“Let’s get you back home, huh,” Bokuto said quietly, obviously reluctant.

Akaashi nodded, just as reluctant to leave both him and this beautiful, magical place.

But there was work to be done. He thought of Yukie and her rune readings, and sobered up a bit. They would need to consult the map again, find the spots that coincided with any mountain ranges.

He let go.

The book was more important.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! The next update might be slower in coming than usual because I'm changing jobs, so please bear with me!


	10. Harvest

While the book lay heavy on his mind, Akaashi still had classes to attend to. If he wanted to keep his place as top student, he needed to study for exams, just like everybody else.

It shouldn’t have been so important to him, being the top of his class. But he had maintained that position every year so far, and he was loathe to let it go now.

So with thoughts of the book and Yukie’s request shoved aside momentarily, Akaashi settled down in the library with a mountain of books and his notes to actually study. He had only been there a few hours when the peace was broken.

“Little owl. Fancy finding you here.”

“Oikawa.” Akaashi glanced around but the library was all but empty, the nearest person rows and rows away from them. Iwaizumi was conspicuously absent from his side.

Akaashi had a thought—a dangerous thought.

“Just the man I wanted to see,” he continued, offering up a polite smile. Oikawa seemed surprised at his words, fingers twitching at his sides.

“Really.”

“Really. I need a favor, of sorts.”

He raised an eyebrow, curling his thumbs through his belt-loops. “Do tell, little owl.”

“First, my name is Akaashi. Second, I’m going on a little trip soon and I need you to cover for me.”

Oikawa’s eyes narrowed at him, suspicious. “What’s this about? A  _trip?_  We’re in the middle of the semester and you’re leaving? That’s an idiotic plan. And there’s no reason for me to cover for you.”

Akaashi glanced back down at his books, writing out another line in his notebook and letting Oikawa stew for a few moments.

“This has to do with that demon of yours, doesn’t it?” Oikawa said, quieter but no less angry. “I told you to keep away from it.”

“Him,” Akaashi corrected absently. “And you told me, but I don’t recall agreeing to such a thing. Anyway, I shouldn’t be gone longer than three or four days, so I just need you to cover for me while I’m gone.”

Oikawa stared at him, aghast. “You think I’m just going to agree to this—this  _bullshit_?” His voice dropped down to a low hiss as he leaned forward into Akaashi’s space, slamming a hand down on the table between them. Akaashi stared him down.

“Yes. Considering you swore a blood oath to protect me from myself and—what was it?—my dangerous demon-fueled inclinations, I think that’s exactly what you’re going to do. If I get expelled you can hardly be holding up your end of the bargain.”

Oikawa’s mouth opened and closed several times without him making a single sound. Akaashi smiled innocently. He picked up one of his candies and held it out towards him.

“Honey drop?” he offered.

“You can’t blackmail me.”

“I believe I just did.” Akaashi pressed the candy into Oikawa’s limp hand. “Don’t make such a fuss about it.”

 Oikawa spun on his heel and left in a fury, but Akaashi had no doubt that he  _would_  cover for him. If only because of the oath. Maybe in another world they could have been friends.

Akaashi returned to his notes but was too distracted to focus, so he packed up and returned to his room. There were still things to prepare for the trip to the spring.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

With Bokuto staying close-mouthed about what exactly waited for them at the Holy Spring of the Eldest, and nothing referencing it in the only demon book Akaashi had, Akaashi was left with nothing to do but worry that they were heading into this woefully unprepared.

He had the jar, for the water. He had his ever-growing arsenal of spells.

And he had questions.

“Who is the Eldest?”

Bokuto shrugged uncomfortably. “People say different things.”

Frustrated, Akaashi pushed. “What different things, Bokuto?”

He only withdrew further, sulking, shrugging silently this time. Akaashi sighed, debating the best course of action as he checked and re-checked his bag. If he left it alone, he’d eventually recover from his poor mood on his own. If he kept pushing like he wanted, there was a chance Bokuto would get worse.

But there was one more option left to him.

“Bokuto,” he said quietly, turning to face him. Bokuto was haloed by the fading light of the sunset and his breath almost caught at the sight. His golden eyes reluctantly lifted to meet his. Akaashi stepped closer until they were close enough to touch, and reached for his hands. Bokuto let him take them, squeezing weakly back when Akaashi gripped them firmly.

“I’m scared,” he said. “I don’t know what’s waiting for us, and if I don’t know, I can’t protect us. I think you have an idea of what’s out there. Would you tell me? Please?”

Bokuto sucked in a sharp breath, holding tighter to Akaashi’s hands.

“Don’t be scared. I’ll keep you safe, no matter what.” He bit his lip. “But I’m scared too,” he admitted.

“Why’re you scared?”

“The Eldest won’t let us take their water without a price.”

“Who is the Eldest?” Akaashi asked again.

“The first of us.”

“The first demon?”

Bokuto nodded, looking down at their clasped hands. Akaashi was struck with the first glimmer of tangible fear he’d had since that day at Yukie’s.

“What will they ask of us?”

Bokuto shrugged, again. “There’s no telling, Akaashi. That’s why I’m scared.”

“It’s not like you to be scared.”

“And it’s not like you to be this reckless.”

“It’s not reckless. I just have faith in you. I have faith in us.”

Bokuto dropped his hands and wrapped his arms around Akaashi tightly, swaying them from side to side. Akaashi returned the hug as best as he could. It  _was_  reckless, no matter what kind of faith Akaashi held. But they had made it through so many things together. Scared as he was, he couldn’t believe that it would be easy to take the two of them down. Not if they were working together.

“What’s so special about this water anyway?” Akaashi asked once Bokuto let him go. Bokuto only blinked at him with a small frown. “I mean, what makes the spring ‘holy’?”

“The water is supposedly infused with the power of the Eldest,” Bokuto said eventually, looking down and fiddling with his talons. “That makes it as holy as it gets, for demons.”

Akaashi frowned. Just how powerful was this Eldest, the first demon? They were sure to find out, sooner rather than later, and Akaashi wasn’t lying when he said he was scared. But he didn’t care to risk Yukie’s wrath, either.

He was a man of his word, after all.

 Oikawa was easy to find. He was less easy to catch alone. Akaashi finally managed to track him down—it was not stalking, he tried to convince himself—in the forest. It seemed he really did go for walks there, the same as Akaashi did.

When Oikawa saw him blocking his path, he glared.

“I knew I should have brought Iwa-chan with me,” he declared petulantly. “What do you want now?”

“I’m leaving in the morning. I thought I should let you know.”

Oikawa sighed, running a hand through his styled hair. “I don’t suppose there’s any convincing you not to go.”

“You suppose correctly.”

“And I don’t suppose you’re going to tell me  _where_  it is that you’re running off to.”

Akaashi smiled. “I won’t be alone, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

At Akaashi’s words, Oikawa tensed, drawing himself up taller. “You know what, Akaashi? I used to worry about you. I worried someone was making you do these things. But now I know that’s it’s all of your own choosing and I feel sorry for you. One of these days, your choices are going to come back to kick your ass.”

_Tell me something I don’t know._

“I appreciate your concern, Oikawa,” he said coolly.

To his surprise, Oikawa deflated.

“You don’t see it, do you? You can’t even see your own potential. You don’t even know what it is that you’re ruining.”

“I’m not ruining—”

“I’ll cover for you. Damn you, but I will. But you and I are going to have a long chat when you get back.”

_If I get back._

Akaashi hesitated, then nodded.

“Now leave me alone.”

He left Oikawa in the forest, feeling his eyes on him the whole time he walked back to the school.

There was someone else he needed to tell.

Akaashi cast a simple ‘ignore me’ spell on himself, one that Bokuto had taught him, before making the climb to Nekoma tower. The climb was nearly as arduous as the one in his home tower, if only because the path was not as familiar to him.

It was Kuroo who answered the door when Akaashi knocked. It took him several moments to even see Akaashi standing there.

He frowned, continuing to block the doorway.

“Sorry, but Kenma’s not up to visitors right now.”

“It’s important.” Akaashi looked around to double check no one else was around. “It has to do with Bokuto.”

His expression hardened for a moment before crumpling into a mixture of concern and anger. “It isn’t exactly a good time.” But he moved out of the way, letting Akaashi step inside, and slammed the door behind him.

Kenma was in bed, sitting up, long hair hanging loose around his face and hands lying limp on top of the comforter. Akaashi hesitated before approaching. The plants that Kenma normally had growing on his windowsill were shriveled and blackened. Like all the life had been sucked out of them.

“Kenma,” he said, gentle and soft. He didn’t look up but his fingers twitched. “Is everything—”

“Don’t ask me if I’m okay,” he said, the words flat. “Just don’t.”

“So it’s starting to take hold.”

“It’s better if you keep your distance.”

“I trust you.”

“I can’t control my powers yet. I wouldn’t trust me.”

“Kenma. I trust you,” Akaashi repeated, sitting at the edge of the bed. Kenma finally looked up at him and Akaashi nearly gasped. His eyes, normally a bright amber, had faded—as if something had drained the color right out of him. Kenma looked away again, swiftly turning his head and making the beads in his hair clack softly.

“See?” he muttered, shoulders slumping even further in on himself.

Kuroo finally came over, flopping himself over Kenma’s legs like an overlarge cat. Kenma’s fingers twitched again but he held still.

“We both trust you, Kenma,” Kuroo said, snuggling up closer to him. Akaashi swallowed hard and nodded. “We’ll figure this out, together.”

“What was it that you wanted, Akaashi?” Kenma asked tiredly. He didn’t encourage Kuroo to stay, but neither did he tell him to move away.

“I’m going away for a few days. Oikawa’s covering for me, but I just didn’t want you to worry.”

Maybe he needn’t have bothered coming here, since they were both currently occupied with Kenma’s problem, but it had felt like the right thing to do.

“Oikawa?” Kuroo asked suspiciously, right on the heels of Kenma asking, even more suspiciously, “Going away?”

“Bokuto and I have…an errand to run. It will take us some time, that’s all.”

“Going to the convenience store is an errand. Whatever it is that you’re doing, it’s no errand.”

“I promise that—”

“No.” Kuroo held up one hand. “No lying. No promising that you’ll be safe when we all know otherwise.”

Akaashi looked away from the pair. “I promise this is something I have to do. I wouldn’t be doing it if I had a choice.”

“There’s always a choice,” Kenma said, quiet and sad.

Akaashi nearly gritted his teeth.

“I wouldn’t be doing this if I didn’t think it was the best choice available to me,” he corrected carefully. He reached out to Kenma, but Kenma flinched back, so he let his hand drop. It hurt, to be rejected. It hurt to see him like this. But as much as it hurt him, Akaashi couldn’t begin to imagine how Kenma was feeling right now. Kuroo’s eyes were on him, dark and sympathetic.

“Is that really what you think? Or is that what Bokuto thinks?” Kuroo asked.

“It’s what we both think.” Akaashi stood. “Anyway, I just wanted you to know.”

“Did you tell your team?”

Akaashi didn’t say anything and Kuroo sighed, lifting his head from Kenma’s lap in order to better fix him with a glare.

“You have to tell them.”

“Yes, because I’m sure they would be  _oh so understanding_  about my dealings with a demon,” Akaashi couldn’t help snapping out.

“Isn’t Washio’s family—”

“Ask him if you want to know.” That wasn’t his secret to tell.

Kuroo winced slightly but nodded. “At least tell them you’ll be gone. They deserve to know part of the truth, if nothing else. You know they’ll worry about you.”

Akaashi hesitated, taking a step backwards. “Oikawa is covering for me.”

“ _Oikawa knows?”_

Akaashi took another step back. “It’s a long story.”

“You’ll tell us when you get back,” Kenma said, more strongly than anything he had said up until that point, looking over with his pale, pale eyes.

 _If I get back,_  he found himself thinking again. Akaashi nodded in agreement and Kenma turned his head away again.

Akaashi barely remembered making the journey back to Fukurodani tower.

At least Bokuto was still there, waiting for him. He bounced to his feet with a wide grin when Akaashi came back, and talked all through Akaashi getting ready for bed about one of his wild adventures before they knew each other. Akaashi could only spare half his attention, making the appropriate noises in the right spots. His mind was too full of worry about Kenma, worry about what he would do about Oikawa, worry about if he would make it back alive to make all this worrying have a point.

When Akaashi finally curled up in bed, Bokuto slid in beside him without so much as asking; he finished his story and fell quiet, breathing slow and deep.

“I don’t suppose you know anything about reapers,” Akaashi sighed, staring up at the ceiling in the dark. He felt Bokuto shift beside him.

“You shouldn’t mess with them. They’re bad news.”

“Don’t say that,” Akaashi said, sharper than he meant to. Instead of withdrawing as he suspected he might, he felt a light touch on his arm.

“What’s wrong? Why’d you ask about reapers?”

Akaashi felt tears gather in his eyes and quickly blinked them away. “My friend is turning into one. Kenma. And I don’t know how to help. I don’t know how to stop it.”

Bokuto was silent.

“I don’t think I  _can_ stop it,” Akaashi admitted. “I mean, this is Death we’re talking about.”

Bokuto shifted even closer, pressing himself alongside Akaashi and throwing an arm around his middle. “I’m sorry,” he said simply. Nothing more. Which meant there really was nothing he could do to help.

This time, when the tears came, he let them fall.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 They left with the dawn, with only Hime to send them off. She could take care of herself while they were gone, Akaashi was sure. All was quiet in the school as Bokuto flew them away. It didn’t take long to reach the limits of the school grounds, and another burst of Bokuto’s instantaneous travel got them to the edge of the mountain range where they would find the Spring.

“It’s on foot from here,” Bokuto said apologetically as he let Akaashi back down on his feet. He felt a bit shaky, but stable enough to stand on his own, thankfully.

“I imagined we’d be on foot for longer than this. Thank you.”

With another look at the map and a quick directional spell to make sure they were headed the right way, they were off.

“What can you tell me about the Eldest?” Akaashi asked again as they walked. “Is there anything I should know?”

Bokuto sighed, looking back over his shoulder at him. He seemed to come to some kind of decision, because he stopped walking and nodded, turning to face him fully.

“Centuries ago, they were our king. But then a group of demons trapped them in their territory. Locked them in with magic.”

So all hopes of the Eldest not being at the spring when they arrived were gone.

“Only a handful have ever returned alive,” Bokuto continued.

“You couldn’t have told me this earlier?” Preferably,  _before_  he had agreed to Yukie’s terms. Bokuto only shrugged.

“If anyone can do this, it’s us.”

“You seem more confident than before.”

“Well, I just remembered how great I am!” he said with a laugh. “And you, too,” he amended quickly when he saw Akaashi’s thoroughly unimpressed look.

Akaashi shook his head and started walking again, leaving Bokuto to catch up to him. He did so quickly, walking side by side with him and humming tunelessly. Every so often, their arms would brush.

Akaashi tried to ignore the small touches, but they were also a warm and welcome distraction from what they were about to face. It would take another day to reach the place marked on their borrowed map. Which meant they would spend the night beneath the stars together.

It would feel weirdly romantic if Akaashi wasn't so scared. Nor so focused on the task at hand.

He scoffed at himself.  _Romantic._  As if either of them would know what that was. It was power he was after, power and knowledge. And Bokuto was after his soul. That was how relationships between demons and humans were. Oikawa’s words came to mind.

_“There’s only two things a demon wants, your soul or your life.”_

If Akaashi was being honest, he wasn’t sure he saw much of a difference between the two.

But he trusted Bokuto. Implicitly. He counted him as a friend, though he’d never admit to it aloud. That would make it too real.

“We should have a plan,” Akaashi mused. Bokuto bumped roughly into him.

“A plan?”

“For the Eldest. Do we fight or do we bargain?”

Bokuto snorted. “There’s no fighting the Eldest.”

“What makes you say that?”

“They’re the most powerful demon in the world. Not even I measure up.” Bokuto sounded deadly serious for once.

“You just got done telling me how great you are, now you’re saying you don’t measure up? Pick a side, Bokuto.”

“Hey, I’m being serious!”

“Then explain it better.”

“Well,” he trailed off for a few moments. “If I’m the fourth strongest demon, that means there are three others ahead of me, right? The Eldest is stronger than even the first strongest. They’re the One Who Came Before.”

Akaashi was quiet, digesting this information. Power like that was unfathomable. “The One Who Came Before what?”

Bokuto shrugged, picking up his pace. “Just…Before.”

That certainly answered nothing. Perhaps it was more demon lore that Akaashi wasn’t privy to. If they made it out of this situation alive, he’d ask Bokuto more about it. For now, the most important thing was getting the water and getting out again.

What could they bargain with though? What was it that the strongest demon in the world lacked?

Night came quicker than he expected, leaving them with little time to set up a proper camp. Bokuto started a campfire for them, by hand surprisingly, but turned to Akaashi expectantly afterwards.

“What’s for dinner, Akaashi?”

Akaashi raised an eyebrow. “I brought enough for me,” he said, doubtfully. He had seen Bokuto eat before, and was himself a heavy eater. He hadn’t been planning for two when he packed food supplies. That had been his mistake, clearly.

Bokuto groaned theatrically.

“You should have planned better,” Akaashi scolded, hugging his bag close.

“Akaashi,” he whined, “your food is so much  _better._ ”

“It’s not like I’m the one who makes it.”

“Yeah, but it’s still better. And besides I’m tired and I don’t want to go hunting in the dark. Please?” Bokuto leaned into his space, tilting his head hopefully. “Pretty please?”

“Just for tonight,” Akaashi relented, shoving Bokuto’s face away. Bokuto let out a cry of ‘yes’ and held out his hands expectantly until Akaashi dropped two of his riceballs into it.

As they ate, Akaashi turned over all the questions he still had in his mind, trying to pick and choose the best ones to ask.

“Bokuto.”

He was licking his fingers clean, which ordinarily Akaashi would have found disgusting. Instead he found himself entranced by the sight of his pink tongue.

_No, I am not thinking about that, no thank you, absolutely not._

“Why did the demons lock the Eldest away?”

“Well,” he cracked his knuckles and flopped back on the ground with a sigh. “This was all way before my time, you understand, so I only know what I’ve heard. Apparently people got fed up with the way they were leading us. They ate other demons, you know.”

“I wasn’t aware demons practiced cannibalism.” The idea was sickening to Akaashi.

“Not really. I mean, sure, there’s always a few around, but it’s not like everybody’s doing it. Anyway, the demons got tired of having a leader and worked together to lock the Eldest away so they could live freely. That’s all I know about it, except that a lot of us died trying.”

Bokuto’s reality was more brutal than Akaashi had imagined.

“So the demons no longer have a monarchy. Is there any ruling force?”

“Nah. No need for it, really. Not that we can agree on much.”

Akaashi mused over this new information while he stared into the crackling fire. He had cast a spell earlier on his clothes, to keep out the chill of the night, but the exposed skin on his face and hands felt even colder in comparison, so he was thankful for the flames.

The Eldest wouldn’t be happy to see them in their territory, that was for certain. There was nothing Akaashi could do to change that. If they were as strong as Bokuto said—and Akaashi was inclined to believe him—then no amount of ‘ignore me’ spells would keep them safe.

They would just have to believe in their own luck. And hope that the Eldest was in a bargaining mood.

“When you say they ate other demons—physically ate them?”

“Yep.” Bokuto snapped his teeth in demonstration.

“Is—is that what you do?”

Bokuto’s jaw dropped, eyes going wide as he lurched back up into a sitting position. “Why would you think _that_ , Akaashi?”

“Terushima called you a demon killer. You haven’t explained that yet, so what else am I supposed to think?”

He ducked his head guiltily. “Guess not. I don’t eat them though.”

“You just…”

“Kill them.”

Akaashi waited for him to continue, but he didn’t. Instead he seemed focused on staring as deeply into the fire as he could manage.

“Bokuto.” Those golden eyes flicked to him, almost shy. “Why do you kill them?” he asked quietly, trying to imagine him as a killer. He couldn’t. It didn’t fit in with all the other things he knew about him. Though he remembered the first time they met, the way he laid waste to the other humans.

Maybe it wasn’t so hard to imagine after all. But he didn’t like it.

“It was an accident at first,” Bokuto admitted. “I got so mad at him—and I wasn’t that great at controlling my magic back then—things just got out of hand. And after that I sort of decided maybe it was a good idea to, you know, take out the bad ones.”

“The bad ones.”

“The ones who kill humans for sport. For no reason.”

Akaashi shivered despite the warmth, curling his arms around his knees. “Isn’t that what demons are supposed to do?” he asked, even quieter.

“Who says demons are supposed to do anything?”

That was true enough. It didn’t make him feel any better about it. So Bokuto was a demon killer. That didn’t make him any less bad or any more good than Akaashi had thought before.

Akaashi laid down to sleep. Bokuto immediately crawled over nearby, trapping Akaashi between the fire and his body.

“Shouldn’t one of us keep watch?” he asked doubtfully.

“I set up a perimeter spell while I was getting firewood. Nobody gets in or out without me knowing,” he said, cracking a yawn. Not long after, his breathing deepened and evened out. Akaashi envied his ability to fall asleep so quickly.

The air was a bit too cool; the fire, a bit too warm. And Bokuto’s softly snoring bulk at his back made for another source of heat, one that Akaashi was painfully aware of.

He closed his eyes.

This was all for the book. Nothing else mattered. Nothing else could matter.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

He dreamed of the watchglass. Like before, he fell through and into it. It was just as disorienting as the first time it happened, visions flashing by him almost faster than he could take them in.

He woke up with his eyes watering and fear coiled low in his belly, but with no memory of what the visions had been.

“Akaashi? You okay?” Bokuto asked, blinking muzzily at him in the dim morning light when he rolled over to make sure he was still there.

“Fine,” he said. “I’m fine.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The closer they got the spot marked on Yukie’s map, the quieter the land around them became. There were no birdcalls, no rustling in the undergrowth from small mammals and snakes, no buzz of insects. There was barely any wind. The quiet was unsettling.

Bokuto was walking a few paces ahead of him, also quiet.

Maybe that was what was so unsettling.

He came to a halt.

“We’re here,” he said in a low voice, pressing a hand against some invisible barrier. Akaashi frowned, holding out his own hand, questing for what Bokuto felt.

The hum of magic was strong, almost stronger than anything he’d felt before, creating a physical resistance despite it’s only purpose being to keep one entity trapped inside.

They glanced at each other, Bokuto offering up a crooked, worried smile. Akaashi took a deep breath and stepped through the magical barrier.

It made his skin tingle all over, but otherwise he felt nothing. The land inside the barrier was just the same as the land outside—green, and deadly quiet. There were rocks up ahead, arranged in a curious circular formation.

Akaashi looked down at the map even though there was no need for it. They were here. With a sigh, he rolled it up and put it away, glancing back towards Bokuto who was still on the other side of the barrier. He raised an eyebrow.

“Coming?” he asked.

“Sure, yeah! In a second, this is—wow. I can feel them all, all the demons who worked on this.” He stood there for several more moments before stepping through, shaking himself like a dog when he did. “That felt  _weird._  Like it wanted to keep me out.”

Maybe it had. Maybe there was some kind of failsafe, to warn other demons away from the Eldest’s prison.

Now wasn’t the time to worry about what that meant.

They started walking again, heading upwards to the rock formation.

“Maybe they’ll be asleep,” Bokuto said, almost sounding nervous.

“Maybe.”

He stepped through the small entrance between the rocks and caught his breath at the sight before them. It was lush, verdant, filled with a terrible silence. The space was imbued with a great power that made Akaashi’s knees feel weak.

 Akaashi could see the spring now, crystalline water that sparkled even in the shade. Before either of them could take another step though, a figure appeared before them with the faintest whispers of wind, blocking their path.

They were tall, dressed in strange layers of colors, their white hair gathered in a long braid over one shoulder. They exuded a sense of tightly restrained power that threatened to overwhelm Akaashi even at this distance.

“Eldest,” Bokuto said, half in greeting, half in fear.

The demon sucked at their too-sharp teeth, squinting at them both.

“Been a while, since I was called that,” they said after several moments passed. “Been a while since anyone dared come here. But it seems you brought me an offering.”

Bokuto stiffened, throwing up an arm to come between the demon and Akaashi. “He’s not for eating,” he said sharply. The demon smiled slowly.

“Who said anything about eating, young one? Besides that, who are you to speak to me that way? Learn your place.” They lifted one long-nailed hand and gestured. Bokuto was thrown aside, hitting the rock wall with an audible thud and crunch. The Eldest approached Akaashi like a cat stalking their prey, pale eyes intent on him, white and grey wings fanned out as if to show off their splendor.

As much as Akaashi wanted to run to Bokuto’s side, he held his ground. There was nothing he could do for him but to try and bargain their way out of this place.

“Been an even longer time since I’ve seen a human in this place. Pray tell, who told you of my spring? Was it your bonded one?” Their eyes never moved from Akaashi but Akaashi knew he was speaking of Bokuto. Bokuto, who lay so still on the ground.

_Please, please be okay. Please stand up._

“No.”

“Another of my foolish kin, then. Tell me their name.”

Akaashi licked his lips, throat dry. “No,” he croaked out. The Eldest blinked slowly. Then they let out a sharp laugh that grated on Akaashi’s ears like the screech of broken glass.

“A bold one, aren’t you? I like that in a human.”

“We meant no disrespect by coming here.”

“No, you just meant to steal my water.” The Eldest hissed softly and Akaashi shuddered at the sound, at the rising pressure of their magic that filled this place. “Like every other fool that came before you. And you can see how well that worked out for them.”

They gestured off to the side, where their collection of bones lay, a haphazard pile of skulls and other fragments of things that had once been alive.

“What makes you so special that you think you can succeed where they all failed, hm?” The demon approached him slowly, stalking like a predator that knows it has won. Akaashi’s mind whirled desperately. He dared a glance to Bokuto, but he still wasn’t moving.  _Please be okay. Please wake up._

The Eldest snapped their fingers. “I asked you a question, human.”

“I have something better to offer than they do.”

The Eldest grinned, showing off those too-sharp teeth again, glimmering and white as the clean bones they collected.

 “I doubt that. Unless you mean to offer yourself up as sacrifice. You smell strong.” The Eldest made a show of sniffing the air around him.

Akaashi shivered, locking his knees so he wouldn’t be tempted to step back.

“I’ll owe you a favor,” Akaashi said, reaching desperately for anything that might work to stop them. They laughed again.

“A favor? And what favor do you have that could possibly mean anything to  _me?”_ They stepped closer, running one long nail down the side of his cheek. Akaashi was paralyzed. Bokuto was still down. Akaashi prayed to all the gods he didn’t believe in that he was okay. “No, I’m afraid it’s you I want.”

“I can free you.”

Akaashi didn’t know why he said it. It wasn’t true. The magic here was ancient, far beyond anything he could manage. It was the culmination of centuries of work, centuries of desperate demons trying to fight back against their self-appointed ruler. But whether it was true or not, it gave the Eldest pause.

They grabbed his jaw tightly, pale eyes narrowed at him as they leaned in.

“You lie.”

“I can try. That’s more than anyone else is willing to do for you, isn’t it?”

“If I can’t free myself, what makes you think you’re strong enough to do the deed, hm? You are  _nothing._ ”

“That’s my offer.”

The Eldest’s grip tightened painfully.

“You really mean it,” they said, dangerously quiet. Their magic burned all around them, a white blazing fire that consumed the world around them. “You would free me. Over some of my water.”

Their eyes flicked away, towards Bokuto, calculating.

“Over him. A demon.”

“He’s mine.”

“Not for long from the looks of it.” Akaashi had made no mention of their contract, but the Eldest reached out with their free hand, toying with the bracelet on Akaashi’s wrist. “You’re very foolish, human. Bold and foolish.”

 They let go. Akaashi drew in a shaky breath.

“I accept your deal.”

“My terms—”

“—are that I allow you to take the water and your lives.” They smiled widely. “Is that right?”

“Yes.”

“Done. And in return, I want you to swear you will try to free me.”

Akaashi nodded. “I promise—” he broke off when the Eldest hissed in displeasure, eyes narrowing as they leaned back in Akaashi’s space.

“None of your fickle human promises, boy. I smell blood magic on you. That’s what I want.”

Another blood oath. Damn Oikawa.

“I don’t have a knife,” Akaashi said weakly.

“Ah, I have just the thing. Wait here.” The Eldest walked over to their pile of bones, picking up a few and tossing them aside before finding one that was acceptable. They snapped it in half easily and returned, presenting it to Akaashi with an air of excitement. The edge certainly looked sharp enough to cut, but Akaashi had his doubts about its sanitary quality. “Come now, hurry up.”

Barely able to grip the bone shard properly from how badly he was shaking, Akaashi bit his lip and sliced open the palm of his hand.

It was easier than he thought. The stinging pain didn’t set in for a few seconds and a trail of blood began dripping from the cut.

“Your hand,” Akaashi said hoarsely, holding out the bone to the demon. The Eldest held forth their palm and let Akaashi slice it, all the while humming softly to themself. They curled their fingers through Akaashi’s in a way that was too intimate, pressing the cuts together and letting their flowing blood intermingle. Before he could open his mouth to say he knew the runes, but not the words that would make the oath take effect, the Eldest began scrawling out the runes over their arms using the excess blood and murmured out the spell.

It sounded different than Oikawa’s spell, but Akaashi supposed that was to be expected. The cold feeling was the same, the scent of ozone.

“There. We are bound together now. Go back on your word and you will suffer, endlessly,” the Eldest proclaimed with good cheer. They let go of Akaashi’s hand at last, but slid their grip to his wrist, staring at the small wound.

They licked it, lapping at the blood like a hungry cat.

Akaashi made a noise of disgust, trying to jerk his hand away to no avail. It hurt but more than that, it frightened him. What if they decided he wasn’t worth the risk and ate him? There would be repercussions for the Eldest thanks to the oath, but Akaashi got the feeling they didn’t have much to live for.

“Waste not,” they said with an eerie grin, pulling away with bloodstained lips. They finally let go and Akaashi held his hand protectively to his chest.

The wound was gone.

He shivered.

The Eldest took no notice of his discomfort, licking their own hand clean of blood.

“He called you the One Who Came Before,” Akaashi said hoarsely, watching them carefully, edging towards the spring. The Eldest hummed low in their throat, pale eyes flicking to him with clear disinterest.

“I’ve been called that.”

“Before what?”

They threw back their head and laughed. “Don’t you wish you knew?” they said when they finally stopped laughing. “That’s not for a human to know, even one as bold as you. Get your water and leave me.”

Akaashi didn’t need telling twice. He retrieved the jar from his bag and knelt by the spring. He was loathe to touch the water, but there was nothing for it. He scooped as much water as the jar would hold and closed it up tightly. After a moment of hesitation, he got out his water bottle and dumped the contents out, scooping up the spring water into it instead. Both safely stored in his bag, Akaashi went to Bokuto’s side.

“Bokuto,” he said, softly, hands hovering over his prone body. Something must have broken, judging from the sound his collision had made. He wasn’t sure what. Akaashi touched his head, brushing some of the fallen strands of his hair back from his face. “Bokuto,” he called, louder.

Bokuto stirred, making a pained noise as Akaashi tried to shift him into a sitting position.

“Ow, ‘kaashi,’ he mumbled, gripping onto him too tightly, cradling one of his arms inward. The angle of it looked wrong. Bokuto’s eyes snapped open, panic filling his gaze as he searched for and found the Eldest staring back. “Akaashi, get behind me—”

“It’s okay,” he said soothingly, moving to his other side to avoid his broken arm. Between the two of them they managed to get Bokuto onto his feet. “They’re letting us go.”

“Smell blood. Your blood.” Bokuto didn’t seem altogether awake yet.

“It’s okay. But we have to go, now.”

Akaashi met the Eldest’s gaze. They stood blocking the path out. After a few tense beats of silence, they stepped aside, wings folding back and out again restlessly.

“Go.” They folded their arms, watching him closely as he struggled under Bokuto’s weight. “Before I change my mind.”

Akaashi ducked his head in deference, and walking as swiftly as he could with a half-conscious demon leaning against him, he retraced their steps out and away from the spring.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 Akaashi went as far as he could manage away from the Eldest’s spring before stopping. For someone who wasn’t that much taller than him, Bokuto was much heavier, so it wasn’t as far as he would have liked to be.

There was a more pressing matter at hand than the distance.

“It hurts,” Bokuto whimpered out when Akaashi touched his broken arm. Akaashi withdrew his hand, eyes roving worriedly over Bokuto. He seemed more present than before, but Bokuto looked dazed and in pain.

“Just your arm?”

“Can’t breathe right. And my head hurts.” He cringed back pathetically when Akaashi pulled at the edge of his shirt, trying to get a look at his ribs. His torso was already mottled with bruises. He touched his ribs lightly, trying to feel for any breaks, wishing he knew more about healing magic. He couldn’t risk hurting Bokuto more by making a mistake.

Akaashi reached into his bag and pulled out his water bottle.

“Drink this.”

“Will it help?”

“Maybe. Just drink.” If the spring was truly holy, filled with the power of the Eldest, maybe it would have the same healing properties the Eldest themself seemed to have. Akaashi held the bottle to Bokuto’s lips, helping him take a few small sips.

 Bokuto closed his eyes once the bottle was taken away, sighing through his nose and leaning heavily against Akaashi to stay upright. A shudder went through him after a few moments passed and Akaashi could feel him tense up.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s—I feel fine,” Bokuto said, voice trailing up like a question towards the end. He opened his eyes again, glancing over at Akaashi in confusion before hesitantly lifting the arm that had been broken. “I feel—I feel  _great._ ”

“It doesn’t hurt?”

“Nah, not even a little!” He wriggled his fingers triumphantly before hauling his shirt up and staring down at his now unbruised chest. “Look at that, Akaashi! It’s a miracle!”

Akaashi very pointedly avoided looking at his abs. Or him, in general. Now that Bokuto was mostly sitting up by himself, he eased himself away to a safer distance. “It’s not a miracle, it was the water.”

“That’s miracle enough, for me.”

Akaashi had to agree with him, there. He was beyond relieved that it had worked. He didn’t what else he would have done—gone begging to Iwaizumi to help them? That wouldn’t have ended well at all.

“If you’re fine, we should keep moving.”

“Aren’t you hurt too? I could smell your blood, back there.”

“I’m fine.”

“Huh.” Bokuto squinted at him suspiciously before shrugging. “Guess we should get that water to Yukie, right?”

“Right.”

“How did you manage it, Akaashi?” Bokuto asked as they both got to their feet. Akaashi couldn’t meet his eyes as he flexed the hand he had sliced open not so long ago. “I mean, I thought we were both goners there, but here we are!”

“I promised them something.”

“Promised them what?”

Akaashi sighed, rubbing a hand over his face.

 “That I would try to free them.”

Bokuto was silent. Akaashi could feel his stare, could feel his disbelief without having to see his expression.

“Please tell me you’re joking,” Bokuto pleaded.

“It’s not a joke. It’s the only thing I could think of that would make them let us go.” Akaashi swallowed hard, trying to fight back the residual fear he felt. “They made me take a blood oath, but they let us go. That’s all that matters.”

“This is bad, Akaashi, very bad.”

“You think I don’t know that?” he couldn’t help snapping. “I thought you were—you could have been  _dead_  for all I knew, Bokuto. Forgive me if I couldn’t think any clearer than that.”

Bokuto withdrew into himself, looking chagrined. Akaashi felt guilty for snapping, but he couldn’t take it back now. He touched Bokuto’s arm lightly, assuring himself that they were both here. Both safe. Both alive.

“There’s no way I can break the spells keeping them locked in. The Eldest said as much.”

“Then why…”

“Desperation, I think. They’ve been locked in there for centuries. Even the smallest chance they might be freed is a chance they’re willing to take.” For which Akaashi was enormously grateful, because it meant they were out here instead of joining they pile of bones at the spring.

Akaashi started walking, not even sure if he was headed the right way. Sure enough Bokuto gently bumped into him, steering him onto the proper course.

“We can fly once we’re a few miles away.”

“Good.”

“Akaashi, I bet you could free them.”

“I’m not strong enough to break those spells.”

“But you’re clever enough to find a way, I bet. That’s what I’m afraid of. Because if you find a way and don’t do it—that’s why blood oaths are outlawed for humans, right?”

“One of the reasons,” Akaashi responded tiredly.

“And if you  _do_ do it, then we’re setting loose something terrible on the world.”

 _I don’t care,_  Akaashi wanted to say.  _I just want to find that damn book._

But he did care.

“Since when does a demon care about the fate of the world?” he asked dryly. “Aren’t you all about destruction and chaos?”

“No way! I’ve got way too many things that I like about this world. Akaashi, how can you say that?” Bokuto sounded genuinely hurt, inspiring further guilt. “If the world goes down, so do we! That’s just stupid.”

“Do you think that’s what the Eldest is after? Destroying the world?”

“If I was locked up for centuries, I know I’d be looking for revenge. What better revenge is there than that?”

Fantastic. Another problem added to the mix.

And here Akaashi had been worried about not living long enough to graduate.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 They flew and walked by intervals until they ended up at Yukie’s doorstep for the second time. Bokuto was standing far too close to him as Akaashi knocked at the door. At the distant call of ‘come in’, he opened the door and stepped inside, Bokuto right on his heels.

Yukie stared at them. A flash of shock crossed her face, but she quickly schooled her expression into something more neutral.

“If you’re here to ask that I give you another task—”

She fell silent when Akaashi pulled her jar of water out and shoved it towards her. She took it hesitantly, sniffing the air around it, eyes wide.

“You really did it,” she said, quietly.

“I don’t go back on my word,” Akaashi said coolly. “Bokuto, I’d to speak with Yukie. Alone.”

He frowned but nodded, stepping towards the door. “I’ll be right outside!”

The silence he left behind was heavy, taut as a freshly drawn bowstring.

“You wanted me dead,” Akaashi said flatly.

“That’s not—”

“You sent me there, expecting me to die. Expecting  _us_  to die. If this is some kind of demon joke, I have to tell you, I’m not laughing.”

Yukie’s red eyes were calculating as she took him in.

“I expected you to die,” she admitted. “Not Bokuto though.”

“Care to give me an explanation? Or shall I call Bokuto back in here and tell him all about your little plan? I assure you, he won’t be pleased.”

“Don’t,” she said sharply, wings lifting protectively around her before melting back into her cloak. “He’ll kill me if you do.”

“Then explain.”

She ducked her head, fiddling with her talons. “He’s like a brother to me, Bokuto is. And he’s too attached to you. He gives you an absurd amount of control over him. That’s dangerous. I just didn’t want to see him get hurt by you.”

“I’m not hurting him.”

“No?” she sneered. “You make him weak, you and your human sentiment.”

“Sentiment.”

“Don’t think I can’t tell from the way you look at him. You’re after more than power from him.”

Akaashi’s heart was racing, beating loud enough he was surprised Bokuto didn’t burst back in demanding to know what all the racket was. If she knew, did he know too?

“If it weren’t for me,” Akaashi said, each word clear, crisp and precise as a knife sliding through ribs, “the Eldest would have killed him. So how do you feel about that, Yukie of the High Grove, having sent your brother to meet death head-on?”

He stood before she could answer. He didn’t care what else she had to say.

“I’d say you owe me for his life, but I’d rather we didn’t meet again,” he stated bluntly. She nodded in silent agreement. Akaashi paused before opening the door, turning back to look at the demon. She was the picture of misery, holding the jar of water close to her chest and avoiding his gaze. “I hope the water’s worth it.”

He left. Bokuto was waiting.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 They entered his room by flying up to the balcony. Akaashi was hoping to avoid other people for at least the rest of the day. His team would be furious over his absence, who knew what Kuroo and Kenma were thinking, and Oikawa—

He covered for Akaashi, he had no doubt. But perhaps he should have been more specific as to how he should go about it. Akaashi stored the spring water in his bottom drawer of his desk, the one he kept locked. The book Bokuto had given him was in there, too, as were a few of the less than legal ingredients that Akaashi liked to keep on hand.

“I’m going to bed,” Akaashi announced. Everything could be dealt with in the morning. Or at least, he hoped so. He was exhausted and wanted nothing more than to sleep and sleep and sleep some more. His hunger, too, could wait for the morning. Akaashi couldn’t risk being seen by the other students just yet, not when he was so off-balance.

“What are you doing, Bokuto?” Akaashi asked tiredly as the demon pulled back the covers in preparation of getting into the bed.

“You said we were going to bed,” he said, cocking his head quizzically. Akaashi sighed. This was what came of being lax with formal dismissals. He should send Bokuto on his way, right now.

“I said  _I_ was going to bed. Which means you can leave. You have your own bed, I presume.”

“Well, yeah, but,” he trailed off, shifting from foot to foot. “I’d feel better if I spent the night here. You know, in case that water really didn’t fix everything.”

It was a poor excuse at best.

Akaashi still wasn’t strong enough to deny him.

“All right,” he admitted defeat. Bokuto smiled and removed his cloak, spreading it out lovingly like it was one of the blankets and hopping into bed. He snuggled down in the mattress with a contented sigh while Akaashi quickly changed.

 They lay in bed together for a long time before Akaashi spoke. Perhaps it wasn’t the time or place, but the thought had been rankling at him and he needed a distraction from the fear still bubbling in the belly about the Eldest.

“‘Demons are made, not born’,” Akaashi quoted. Bokuto shut his eyes tightly. He didn’t turn away from him, which Akaashi counted as a win, but not enough to back off. He needed to know. “Which I gather means you were once something  _other_  than a demon, isn’t that right?”

He almost felt bad for pushing but he  _needed to know._

“Akaashi, please, I—”

“Just answer the question, please.”

“Is that an order?”

“Do I have to make it one?” Akaashi asked, genuinely curious. Bokuto wilted before his eyes.

“No,” he whispered. “You’re right. I wasn’t always a demon.”

“You were human,” Akaashi breathed out, barely a question.

“A long time ago. Yes.”

“And then…”

“Then I made a contract and gave up my soul.”

Akaashi swallowed back his nerves and excitement.  _This_ was where demons came from. It didn’t answer where the first demon came from, but all the rest, surely—he took a deep breath, trying to calm himself.

“In exchange for power?”

“No. Nothing like that.” Bokuto hunched his shoulders. “I don’t want to talk about it,” he mumbled tiredly. Akaashi nodded, daring to touch his tightly clasped hands. Bokuto flinched minutely before grabbing his hands and holding them, too tightly, between his own. “Please,” he added.

“Okay,” Akaashi said. “Another time, perhaps.”

Bokuto nodded, still not looking at him.

Akaashi tried to imagine him as human. Without his wings, without his talons, without…he didn’t know what else about him was because he was a demon and what was just  _him._  He tried to imagine it and ended up with only a vague picture. He must have been a force of nature, even then.

He closed his eyes, determined to sleep.

And if Bokuto still held his hands as he drifted off, he wasn’t about to pull away.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“Where have you been?”

The words were more of a snarl than a question and Akaashi flinched at the sound, looking up from his breakfast to see a pissed off Konoha standing over him. He didn’t know Oikawa’s cover story yet—his mistake for not finding out before coming down—so he didn’t know how to answer him. Thankfully, Konoha barreled onward.

“You have some mysterious family emergency you tell no one about? And you make us find out from  _Oikawa_?”

“Konoha, I—”

“—you’re sorry? Because you should be. I don’t care what was going on, you should have told us before running off to—god knows where, because you don’t even  _have_  proper family—”

That stung, maybe more than it should have. Akaashi being an orphan was common knowledge, but he thought his found family was just as important as a traditional family.

“Konoha—”

“You’re not even friends with Oikawa!”

“Konoha, stop it. We don’t need to do this in front of everyone,” Komi said, shoving him as he walked past. He cast a cool look towards Akaashi. “There’s a time and a place. We’ll see you later, Akaashi. Practice is tonight.”

They moved further down the table, away from him, before sitting. The other team members filtered in slowly, all moving past him without a word.

Akaashi returned to his meal, miserable. This was about as good as he thought his return would go, but it still hurt.

“Um, can I—can we sit here?”

Akaashi looked up at hearing Onaga’s voice. His brow was creased with worry, eyes darting between him and the team. Kaori was with him.

“If you like. I’m almost done here.” Akaashi hesitated but continued. “You should probably sit with the team, Onaga.”

He shook his head, sitting down.

“I don’t know what happened where you had to run off, but I think they’re overreacting. Right?” He looked to Kaori for confirmation and she nodded, piling her plate with food.

“I don’t know you very well, senpai, but I don’t think you’d leave without a good reason. You’re top student. That’s not what a top student does.”

Akaashi cleared his throat, offering up a smile. “Just Akaashi is fine.”

“Just Akaashi, then.” She smiled back.

His heart went out to them both, these fresh-faced first years. They were too good to him.

“You don’t have to go,” Onaga said as Akaashi stood.

“I told you I was almost done. See you at practice.”

He breezed out of the room, ignoring the stares that followed him—the most pointed coming from the Seijou Tower table.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Akaashi barely remembered going through classes by the end of the day, let alone the gentle, concerned scoldings he received from each professor. The pile of homework left for him was daunting, but doable so long as he felt up to an all-nighter or two.

A knock came at his door just as he was getting ready to head down to the practice field. When he opened the door, Washio shoved his way inside.

He was alone, at least.

“Oh no, do come in,” Akaashi couldn’t help saying flatly, shutting the door behind him.

“How dare you,” Washio said, voice thick and shaking minutely. “How  _dare_ you.”

“You’re going to have to fill me in on what I did, because I’m drawing a blank here.”

“Don’t you take that attitude with me. Not after you run off like that, without a word to anyone—anyone except  _Oikawa Tooru_  of all people. And a family emergency? You couldn’t come up with a better excuse?”

“Look, if the whole team is set on pointing out the fact that I’m an orphan, just break it to me now. That way I can tune you all out until it’s over,” Akaashi snapped.

“You’re not an orphan, Akaashi, you have us _._   _We’re_  your family. Which means you lied in order to get away from school for four whole days. I need to know what you were doing.”

Akaashi folded his arms.

“That’s none of your concern.”

“No, you see, this is why we’re all pissed. You can’t just disappear and expect to come back and be greeted with open arms when you won’t even give an explanation.”

“No one has given me a chance—”

“I did!” he nearly shouted. “Just now, Akaashi, and you shot me down. You keep too many secrets, you know that?”

 Fear exploded in his chest. And anger.

“What do you care if I keep secrets? Everyone has some goddamn secrets, but it’s only  _mine_  that seem to need to be dragged out into the open.”

Washio stepped forward, grabbing hold of his shirt and shaking him, once, hard.

“Stop it. Just stop. Can you even hear yourself right now?”

“My ears work just fine,” Akaashi said between his teeth, glaring up at Washio. Washio let out a hiccupping laugh, his head bending down so Akaashi couldn’t see his face. 

“What were you doing with demons?”

“Washio—”

“Just listen.” His hands curled tighter in Akaashi’s shirt. “I know what demon smells like. Not a lot of people do, but I mean, I’m part—” He cut himself off abruptly, shaking his head.

“Lately, it’s all you smell of. I just…want to make sure you’re safe.”

Akaashi searched his gaze and found nothing but honest concern.

“I am.”  _As safe as I can be._

“Okay. Okay, that’s all I need to know.”

“You won’t tell?” His voice came out smaller than he liked, but there was no helping that. Washio pulled him in close, in a crushingly tight hug. After a moment Akaashi returned the hug, albeit not as strongly.

“I would never. I can’t lose you.”

Akaashi nodded, feeling his eyes water. Was the whole world to find out about his connections to demonkind? That’s what it felt like.

“We’re family. Brothers.” Washio took a step back, his eyes suspiciously bright.

“Brothers,” Akaashi agreed quietly.

“And brothers always have each other’s back.” He nodded to himself. “I’ll tell the others to lay off.”

“Washio…” But he couldn’t find any words that were sufficient. “Thank you.”

Washio left without another word. Akaashi stood there for several minutes, trying not to cry, trying to pretend he didn’t wish Bokuto was there.

And for what? What words of comfort could he possibly provide that would fix this?

Even was he thought it, Akaashi knew that Bokuto would have thought of something.

Squaring his shoulders, Akaashi left for the practice field. Still angry, still afraid. But willing to make some amends where it was due.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

If Akaashi was a betting man, he’d say the forest was under a curse. He wasn’t a betting man, particularly, but this wasn’t the first time he’d been accosted by a demon while taking a walk, minding his own business.

He almost wished it was Yukie again. At least he knew how to deal with her.

“Terushima,” Akaashi said tightly, resisting the urge to look around. Bokuto had returned home to the Red Glades. Hime was back in his room. And at this hour, with more exams coming up, most of the other students were holed up in the library or their rooms.

Not that he wished more students were around to witness this.

“Bokuto’s human,” the demon said with a grin. “Thought I smelled you out here. Alone.”

“I have a name,” he said, cool as he could. “And I seem to remember Bokuto threatening to rip out your guts if you came near me again.”

“Well yeah, but I figure that’s only if he catches me, right?” he stepped forward, closer than Akaashi liked, grinning. “And I don’t smell him anywhere around.”

Akaashi narrowed his eyes.

“Oh? Frightened, are we?” Terushima asked with a laugh. He reached out and tugged on the ends of Akaashi’s hair. As much as he wanted to, Akaashi didn’t slap his hand away; the last thing he needed was a pissed off demon close to his throat.

“Are you going to kill me?” Akaashi couldn’t help asking. He wasn’t really afraid of him, not anymore. Not after his encounter with the Eldest. He was too numb. Terushima snorted, pulling away from him.

“As if! Bokuto’s got you marked so strong that you’d probably taste like him.” He shuddered theatrically. “Nah, I just want to play a little game.”

“What game is that?”

“Well, word on the street is that you’re looking for something, you and Bokuto.”

“Why not take it up with Bokuto?” Akaashi took a surreptitious step backward, trying to think of the quickest way out of this conversation.

“Thanks to you, me and him are on the outs. Not that we were ever best buds, mind you, but we got along well enough.” Terushima frowned at him, folding his arms over his chest. “A book. A particular book, too, isn’t it?”

Akaashi froze. Who else knew they were looking, if Terushime knew? Terushima smiled.

“What’s the game?” Akaashi asked again.

“Well, might be that I know something about this book you’re after.” He inspected his fingernails with mock interest. “And things have been a bit dull lately, and I figured—humans love games, right? So why not ask you to play?”

“The game, Terushima. What is it.”

“First off, let’s establish something. You win, you get the information I have.”

“And if you win?”

“I get to call in a favor. _And_ you tell Bokuto to knock it off with the whole guts eating thing.”

What kind of favor could Terushima possibly want from him? But if he wasn’t lying, and he truly knew something about the book, Akaashi needed to know. Terushimi seemed to be able to read his thought process because he was grinning smugly.

“Done,” Akaashi said, hating himself.

“That’s what I thought, human.”

“Akaashi,” he corrected with a sigh. “It’s Akaashi. You still haven’t said what the game is.”

Terushima smiled again, wicked.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Updates may continue to be slow as I'm participating in some writing fests, but I'll do my best to keep the updates coming! As always you can come yell at me [here](http://hostilovi.tumblr.com) on tumblr~


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